


Devils in Skirts.

by steeleye



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Carry on Up the Khyber
Genre: Action/Adventure, Comedy, F/F, Gen, Romance, xover fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3711787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steeleye/pseuds/steeleye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 'Carry On Up The Khyber' xover. The natives are revolting and the officers look pale. But, what's really worrying Sergeant-Major MacNutt is; why does Corporal Summers make such a realistic looking dancing girl?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Devils in Skirts.

By Steeleye.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or 'Carry On Up The Khyber'. I write these stories for fun not profit.

 **Crossover:** BtVS with the movie, 'Carry On Up The Khyber'.

 **Spelling, Punctuation, and Grammar:** Written in glorious English-English which is different to American-English.

 **Timeline:** Post BtVS season 5, pre BtVS season 6.

 **Words:** Twelve Chapters of 2500+ words.

 **Warnings:** Beware, double entendres. 

**Summary:** A 'Carry On Up The Khyber' xover. The natives are revolting and the officers look pale. But, what's really worrying Sergeant-Major MacNutt is; why does Corporal Summers make such a realistic looking dancing girl?

0=0=0=0

_Kilted soldiers wear no drawers,  
Won't you kindly lend them yours?  
The rich must always help the poor,  
To save the British army._

_Toora loora loora loo,  
They're looking for monkeys up at the zoo,  
And if I had a face like you,  
I'd join the British army.*_

*: 'The British Army', traditional.

**The Governor's Residence, Khalabar, the Northwest Frontier Province of India, 1895.**

Listening to the sound made by her hobnailed boots as they clumped on the bare floorboards, Buffy walked slowly along the corridor to her office. She couldn't help but wonder at the strange twists and turns her life had taken recently. One minute she was jumping to her certain death from Glory's tower, the next...well the next she was here and so not dead. Reaching into her sporran Buffy pulled out the key to her office before slipping it into the lock and opening the door. Walking into her small office, she glanced upwards and saw that the punka was hanging motionless from the ceiling.

“PUNKA WALLAH!” Buffy yelled and a moment later the punka started to sway slowly from side to side as it began to stir the already warm air. 

Undoing the brass buttons of her khaki tunic, Buffy took it off and hung it up on one of the hooks behind the door. Walking over to her desk, she sat down and stared for a moment at the typewriter that took pride of place in the centre of her desk. It was a big, solid, black machine (except for the keys which were silver); Buffy suspected the only reason she'd been given the job of company clerk was that she knew how to use this latest example of Victorian, high-tech machinery.

Sitting there staring at the 'dread machine', Buffy happened to look down at the front of the light blue shirt she wore and asked herself the same question that she asked herself almost every day for the last six months; namely, why hadn't anyone noticed her breasts? Okay, she admitted, she wasn't quite as 'big' as Faith, but her breasts still made two discernible bumps in the front of her shirt and to a lesser degree when she wore her tunic, so why didn't anyone say anything?

It was all a mystery to her, very much like the mystery of how she came to be here in Khalabar in eighteen-ninety-five in the first place. Having jumped to save the world and her sister, she'd woken up to find herself here in Khalabar on the Northwest Frontier of British India. Then to make matters worse she'd not woken up on that first morning in a hotel or something, no, that would have been way too easy for Buffy Summers. Instead she'd woken up to the sound of someone blowing a bugle in her ear; they hadn't really, but that's what it had sounded like to an increasingly stressed out slayer.

New pieces of information had broken over her like waves on the beach and like great, big waves rolling in from the ocean they had at first threatened to drown her. First she noticed no one had cut her hair while she had plummeted towards the ground. Now she had to try and tie her hair up so it wouldn't be noticed. As can be imagined this didn't always work, particularly when she wasn't wearing a hat. However, just like her rather obvious breasts no one mentioned that her hair was somewhat longer than was normal for a soldier of this time period. Apart from anything else she didn't want to be a soldier in the British army at the end of the previous century, she wasn't even British for Christ's sake! 

Very quickly Buffy had discovered that her name was 'Corporal Buffy Summers', it appeared that in this place and time 'Buffy' was a nickname given to men and boys and not a girl's name. Next she'd discovered that not only was she a soldier, in a time and place where female soldiers were completely unheard of, but she was company clerk for 'A' Company of the one-hundred-and-thirty-third Regiment of Foot, better known as the Earl of Inverlockty's Own Highlanders also known to the natives here abouts as 'The Devils in Skirts'. The regiment's motto being 'Always Ready for Action' which Buffy had to admit sounded better in Latin than it did in English, ' _Semper Promptus Actus,_ ' or something not very dissimilar.

But what really annoyed and confused her was the way no one seemed to notice that she was a girl, or if they did they weren't saying. At one point she'd even considered stripping off and walking naked onto the parade square. Perhaps then they'd notice and send her somewhere where she didn't have to wear the unflattering big, black, boots and the heavy tartan kilt that were the main and most unfashionable articles of clothing that made up her otherwise reasonably practical uniform.

Sighing as she always did at all these unanswered and possibly unanswerable questions, Buffy got on with her daily round of typing up reports and orders. Knowing she wouldn't be disturbed for at least a couple of hours, she also knew that this was the most productive part of her day and took full advantage of it.

0=0=0=0

It didn't take slayer ears to enable her to hear Sergeant-Major MacNutt's footsteps as they stomped angrily along the corridor towards the office next to hers.

“CHAR WALLAH!” Buffy cried alerting the native bearer who was in charge of making the tea to get the kettle on; as the footsteps got closer, Buffy called out, “Good morning Sergeant-Major.”

“Good morning Corporal Summers and no it's not!” MacNutt said as he came to stand in Buffy's doorway.

Looking up, Buffy gave a little sigh as she always did whenever she saw the Sergeant-Major. MacNutt was tall, dark and handsome and so much younger than she'd expected a Sergeant-Major in the British Army to be. Buffy was in fact in love with Sergeant-Major MacNutt or at least seriously infatuated with him. Another odd thing that should be noted at this juncture; not only did no one notice Buffy's breasts or long hair but they also appeared not to notice that Buffy had a voice somewhat higher than the average Highland soldier and that she also lacked a Scottish accent.

“Tea's on the way, Sergeant-Major,” Buffy gazed up at this picture of masculine beauty from behind her typewriter and gave another little sigh, “Gotta say Sergeant-Major you look mightily pissed at something.”

“Pissed off, more like,” MacNutt muttered as he walked into her office, pulling up a chair he sat down in front of Buffy's desk.

Buffy couldn't help giving a little gasp as the sergeant-major seated himself, as he sat with his legs spread wide apart, Buffy had almost got a glimpse of what lay hidden beneath the Sergeant-Major's kilt.

“I've just been up to the border post,” MacNutt explained apparently not noticing Buffy's little gasp of desire, “to check on Number Three Section.”

The border between British India and Afghanistan was only a couple of miles away along a dusty road outside Khalabar itself. It was part of the Inverlockty Highlanders' job to supply a guard detail to one of the minor crossing points

“Oh...” Buffy could see now why the Sergeant-Major looked so despondent, “...Private Widdle?” she asked.

“Private Widdle,” MacNutt agreed with a nod and a heavy heart.

For a moment Buffy and MacNutt sat in silence each contemplating the minor disaster area that was Private Widdle. How the man had got into the Highlanders, Buffy didn't know. For the moment she ignored the fact that _she_ was in the Highlanders, so how someone like Widdle got to be there shouldn't have come as such a big surprise. The man was short, thin, wore spectacles, didn't know one end of a rifle from another and was, Buffy suspected, gay. Not that Buffy had anything against gay people, after all her best friend in Sunnydale was gay, but in this time and place being a soldier wasn't a great career choice for a gay man.

“Don't worry, Sergeant-Major,” Buffy had to stop herself from reaching out and patting MacNutt's hand as it rested on her desk, “You'll feel better after a nice, hot cup of tea...talking of which, where's that Char Wallah?” Buffy yelled again, “CHAR WALLAAAAAH!”

In the kitchen at the back of the admin block the Indian servant who was in charge of making the tea, winced at the volume of Buffy's yell and regretted the day that the Sahibs had allowed Memsahibs to join the army.

0=0=0=0

**The Khyber Pass.**

About one hundred yards inside Afghanistan, two local tribesmen (known as Burpas) looked down at the gate that closed off the rough track that led down to Khalabar. Peering from behind a handy boulder on that rocky, desolate hillside the two warriors watched as a solitary British soldier marched up and down besides the barrier as he guarded the 'Gateway to India'; they knew it was the 'Gateway to India' because there was a sigh on the gate that said so.

The larger of the two warriors, Bungdit Din, scanned the area with his sharp, hill-man's eyes. There was the gate, there was the fence that stretched off into the distance on either side of the gate. There was the guard house with its accursed British flag flying from the flag pole on its roof, a symbol of Britain's mastery over all of India. However, apart from this one soldier, a particularly short, weedy specimen, there were no other British soldiers in sight. Still Bungdit Din felt uneasy about approaching the gate.

“Oh, Bungdit Din,” wailed Bungdit's companion, “we can't go in, there is a guard!”

“Only one man, Stinghi,” Bungdit Din replied.

“Oooh,” Stinghi wailed yet again, “one Devil in Skirts is enough, you know they are invincible!”

“If we fight, maybe,” Bungdit Din smiled, his teeth flashing from beneath his great, black beard, “but there is always bribery.”

“What have we got to bribe the guard with?” Stinghi wanted to know.

“Don't you know what British soldiers are always looking for?” Bungdit Din asked his comrade in arms.

“Yes,” Stinghi shrugged, “but where are we going to find a bint up here?”

“No, no, no, no,” Bungdit Din waged his finger and shook his head, “No, they are always looking for souvenirs.” Pulling back his goat skin jacket, Bungdit Din drew forth his long, curved and very sharp sword, “I'll offer him my weapon if he'll let me go through.”

Standing up out of his hiding place, Bungdit Din approached this lone guardian of the British Empire while Stinghi kept him covered with his Jezail. Walking openly down the track towards the gate, Bungdit Din got a better look at this example of British manhood that his people held in such terror. The man, and Bungdit Din used the term loosely, was even thinner than he had at first thought. He looked at the soldier's thin, bony knees and started to doubt all the stories about the devil's in skirts fighting prowess. The soldier had not even noticed his approach, he appeared to be too busy concentrating on marching up and down. Eventually the soldier did notice the sound of Bungdit Din's feet on the loose gravel of the track; he turned and pointed his rifle (butt first) at Bungdit Din.

“Halt! Who goes...” the soldier seemed to have forgotten what he was supposed to say, “...who goes...oh what's the word...?”

“There?” Bungdit Din supplied helpfully.

“Oh, yes, thank-you,” Private Widdle replied politely before getting back to the script, “Who goes there?”

“I go there,” Bungdit Din hurried up to the gate and smiled in a friendly manner at Widdle, “Very good friend.”

“Oh!” Widdle replied pleasantly surprised, he'd been warned that all Burpas were dangerous cut-throats, but this one didn't seem like a cut-throat at all, “Advance friend and give the password.”

“With pleasure, sir,” Bungdit Din's smile grew wider yet as he rested one hand on the gateway to India, “What is password?”

“Pomegranate,” Widdle replied without thinking.

“Very good,” Bungdit Din nodded happily as he opened the gate and walked through, “pass friend.”

“Hey, just a minute,” at this point even Widdle realised that something wasn't quite right, “You're supposed to give _me_ the password.”

“Oh! I'm sorry sir,” Bungdit Din tried to look innocent, which was no mean feat for such a large and heavily armed Burpa, “I'm just a stupid, ignorant Burpa.”

“Oh no you don't!” Widdle pointed his rifle at Bungdit Din even harder than he had been before, “Stay right there, I've got you covered.” It was then that Widdle realised he'd got his rifle the wrong way round, “Just a minute...”

Bungdit Din waited patiently while Widdle got his rifle pointed in the right direction; once everything was in order, Widdle once again pointed his rifle fiercely at Bungdit Din.

“Oh, no, no, no, sir,” Bungdit Din laughed good naturedly, “No need for antagonism...I have present here for you...” Bungdit Din drew his sword and held it up in front of Widdle's shocked eyes, “Very good Indian tulwar, can cut man in two with one stroke!”

Widdle swayed unsteadily on his feet as Bungdit Din demonstrated a couple of air cleaving strokes with his sword. As the tulwar whistled through the air next to Widdle's ears, all the blood rushed from his brain and down into his boots; he fell in a dead faint onto the track.

“What did I do?” Bungdit Din asked himself as he stood over the body of the Devil in Skirts.

He was just about to continue on his way down into Khalabar town when an evil thought came to his mind, he turned back to look at the unconscious Private Widdle.

“I wonder...” he muttered as he approached Widdle's recumbent form.

Reaching out with the point of his sword, Bungdit Din lifted up the hem of Widdle's kilt. The sight that met to his eyes surprisingly didn't fill him with terror, in fact it filled him with mirth. Smiling widely he laughed out loud.

“Now we know!” Bungdit Din laughed even louder, “HURR-HURR-HA-HA!”

0=0=0=0

Bint: A Young woman.  
Jezail: A long barrelled matchlock musket.  
Tulwar: A Heavy bladed sabre-like sword.  
Char Wallah: A Wallah who makes the char.  
Punka Wallah: A Wallah who punkas. 


	2. Chapter Two.

2.

_Whatever happens we have got,  
The Maxim gun and they have not._

**The Khasi of Khalabar's Palace, Khalabar.**

The Khasi of Khalabar held up Private Widdle's purloined underpants and smiled. He was a man of average height dressed in a green silk tunic which was richly decorated with priceless gems. On his head he wore a yellow turban adorned with a large ruby. The Khasi was clean shaven unlike so many of the men in this region; but to make up for the lack of a beard he had a large nose with possibly the biggest nostrils you've ever seen. At the moment he was viewing the underpants as he stood in his throne room. His eldest daughter and light of his life, The Princess Jelhi, was seated on a stool next to the Khasi's throne and Bungdit Din was standing at the foot of the dais on which the lavishly carved ivory throne and the stool stood.

“You speak truly?” the Khasi sounded a little bemused, “The devil actually wore this garment under his skirts?”

“I swear it Highness,” Bungdit Din replied eagerly, “Did I not remove them with my own hands?”

“You did well, Bungdit Din,” the Khasi replied as he seated himself on his throne.

“It was not difficult, Highness,” Bungdit Din explained, “they were only held up with a piece of elastic!”

“No, no, no, no, my Beautiful warrior,” the Khasi gushed, “I mean you did well to discover them.”

Bungdit Din swelled with pride at his overlord's words of praise.

“For many years,” The Khasi began to explain; not because Bungdit Din needed to be told the story, but because like most tinpot tyrants, the Khasi loved to hear the sound of his own voice, “the British have led us to believe that the Devils in Skirts wore nothing beneath their skirts and we have feared them accordingly, but now...” the Khasi gestured with the underpants that he still held in his hand, “...Ho-ho-ho!”

“I do not understand, my father,” the Princess Jelhi who up to this point had remained silent spoke for the first time. “What is there to fear from a warrior who wears nothing under his skirts?”

“Oh my child,” the Khasi looked aghast at his beautiful and virtuous daughter, “you have never made war.” The Khasi explained further, “But think how frightening it would be to have such a man charging at you,” the Khasi looked fearful as his mind's eye pictured such a scene, “with his skirts flying in the air and waving his great big...” the Khasi glanced at his daughter who gazed up at him with big, brown, innocent eyes and reconsidered what he'd just been about to say, “...erm...waving his great big _bayonet_ at you!”

“It is true,” Bungdit Din added his voice to that of the Khasi's, “but who can be afraid of men who wear such a ridiculous thing beneath their skirts?”

“Precisely,” the Khasi gave an evil smile, “and when our people learn of this they will rise up and drive the British out of Khalabar!” 

Looking a little flushed the Khasi quickly regained control of himself, if the British were driven from Khalabar he would once again be the province's undisputed Evil Overlord.

“Now, Light of my Life,” the Khasi first turned to his daughter and then to Bungdit Din, “and you my most Beautiful Warrior, leave me for a little time while I consider how best to use this,” once again he gestured with the underpants, “windfall to our best advantage.”

The Princess and the warrior left the Khasi to his planning. Once he was alone the Khasi walked over to a secret door hidden behind some heavy silken drapes in the corner of the throne room. Pushing the curtains aside, the Khasi looked around once more to ensure that he was truly alone. Taking a key from the sash around his waist and using it to unlock the heavy wooden door he quickly stepped inside the room beyond the door. 

Stepping into the dark, fetid chamber, the Khasi quickly shut the door behind him for fear that someone would see what the chamber contained. Pausing in the dimly lit room he smelt the incense that covered the stench of corruption that permeated the chamber. Hesitantly the Khasi walked towards the altar at the far end of the room. As he walked his feet kicked against the broken bones that littered the floor, while his slippers stuck to the congealed blood that had been liberally splattered on the marble floor. Eventually he came to stand before the altar and its huge statue of the many armed and heavily armed goddess that stood upon the plinth. Holding out the underpants as though they were a priceless offering he spoke.

“Oh Great Goddess Kali,” the Khasi intoned, “your humble servant stands before you with a prize which is beyond price, beyond all the riches of the east!”

“Looks like a pair of underpants to me,” replied the goddess.

As she spoke the goddess turned stiffly to gaze down at the Khasi and wondered, not for the first time, at the size of his nostrils. As she moved she began to look less like a heavily armed bronze statue and more like a girl with three eyes, four arms, vampire fangs and large, firm breasts. Her belly was bloated with the blood of her victims; she was awful, terrible and horrifying, while at the same time having that common touch that drew so many into worshipping her...plus, as has already been noted, she had really big boobs.

“So what's got your knickers in such a twist,” the goddess giggled at her own wit which made her breasts giggle provocatively; transferring one of her swords into another hand she used her free hand to scratch the end of her nose while she listened to the Khasi's story.

“Oooo-er!” the goddess exclaimed when the Khasi had repeated the tale of the 'Glorious Capture of the Underpants' to her, “You really think it'll make that much of a difference?” the goddess asked as she put down a couple of her weapons and used her free arms to hitch up her skirts, “I mean the British have Maxim guns and magazine rifles while our guys,” she gestured with a carelessly waved scimitar that almost sliced off the end of the Khasi's nose, “have jezails and a few breachloaders.” 

“But, oh great and merciful Goddess,” the Khasi started to explain, “armed with the knowledge that the Devils in Skirts wear such as these,” the Khasi flourished the underpants at the goddess, “the tribal warriors will be unstoppable!”

“Hmm,” the Goddess idly juggled a couple of swords in the air as she considered the Khasi's words, “knowledge of what the devils wear under their skirts versus Maxim guns...” the goddess stopped juggling and gave the Khasi a hard look as she slowly shook her head, “...I don't think so!”

“But goddess...!” The Khasi started to plead.

“Don't 'but goddess' me,” Kali crossed a couple of arms under her more than ample breasts, her other set of hands rested belligerently on her hips “I know exactly how this is going to end,” she started to explain. “You'll get the warriors all worked up with tales of these ridiculous underpants. Then they'll all rush off and attack the British,” the goddess picked up all her swords, scimitars and flails and advanced menacingly on the Khasi who started to retreat from the frowning but well endowed goddess. “Then the British will sit behind their Maxim guns and mow down my warriors in big, untidy heaps,” Kali paused for just a second before standing nose to, incredibly nostrilled nose with the Khasi. “What's the betting we'll run out of warriors before the British run out of bullets, huh?”

“Well,” the Khasi sighed softly, “if you really think you're right...”

“Of course I'm right!” exclaimed the goddess as she stood up, tall and magnificent while thrusting her breasts carelessly in the Khasi's general direction; along with a couple of swords and at least one flail, “I'm a goddess as well as a woman, I'm always right!”

“If you say so,” the Khasi spread his hands and shrugged hopelessly.

“I do,” sniffed the goddess before turning her back on the Khasi and heading back towards her altar, “now piss off, leave me in peace and forget these foolish plans of driving the British from Khalabar.”

“I hear and obey, oh Goddess,” the Khasi bowed low as he started to back out of the room with its blood sticky floor and untidily heaped bones.

“And send someone in to clear this place up,” the goddess called as she climbed back up onto her altar, “anyone would think this was a slaughter house not a temple!”

Leaving the goddess' presence the Khasi shut and locked the door before leaning against it. He breathed heavily in a mixture of fear and anger. The goddess had rejected his perfectly good plan on how to drive the British from Khalabar and sent him running with his tail between his legs. Suddenly a righteous anger filled the Khasi's entire being. What did Kali know about strategy and tactics? So, she was the Goddess of Death and a few other things besides, but what did she know about war? Particularly war against devils who wore such ludicrous garments under their skirts.

He would show her, the Khasi pushed himself away from the door and walked quickly back towards his throne. He would teach the British and that bare breasted, overly armed goddess a lesson. When he had the British at his feet he'd go back to the goddess and look her straight in the eye and say, 'Nah-nah-nee-Nah-Nah!'

Striding out into his throne room the Khasi called loudly; “Bungdit Din, come, attend your Khasi!”

Together they would destroy the British, after all what did goddesses know about the _real_ world?

0=0=0=0

**The Governor's Residence, Khalabar.**

“You're for it now Widdle,” Buffy said with just a hint of malicious joy as she and Private Widdle stood in the corridor outside Captain Keene's office.

Not ten minutes earlier, Sergeant-Major MacNutt had marched Widdle into the admin block. Leaving the private in the corridor, MacNutt had stamped into Buffy's little office and informed her that he was putting Widdle on a charge for the loss of army property. Quickly, Buffy typed out the Charge Sheet as MacNutt dictated the particulars of Widdle's crimes and she tried very hard not to laugh. Once she'd finished typing and as Sergeant-Major MacNutt went away to talk to Captain Keene, Buffy put on her tunic and found her white sun helmet. Putting the sun helmet on her head and after hiding her hair under it, she walked out into the corridor as she did up the brass buttons on her tunic. Looking into Widdle's face (he was only an inch or so taller than her), she tutted, sighed and shook her head in faux sorrow.

“I'm totally glad I'm not in your boots...for one thing they're way too big for me,” but before Buffy could add anything more, Sergeant-Major MacNutt called from inside Captain Keene's office.

“Wheel 'im in, Corporal Summers!”

Stamping to attention Buffy tried not to squeak when she shouted.

“Prisoner! Prisoner 'shun!” Widdle slumped to a close approximation of the 'attention' position at Buffy's order, “Right turn, quick march!” 

Widdle headed off down the corridor with Buffy in hot pursuit.

“Lef-right, lef-right,” Buffy called out the step, “Right Wheel!” Widdle turned and headed into Captain Keene's office, “Lef-right, lef-right,” she marched him up to the captain's desk, “HALT! LEFT FACE!” Widdle turned to face their commanding officer, “SALUTE!”

Widdle saluted almost knocking his helmet off in the process, Buffy hated to admit it but this was the most fun she'd had in a long time, if only she'd been allowed to do this sort of thing to Cordelia when they'd been at school.

“Helmet off!” Buffy having got Widdle into position stepped back out of the way while the company officer regarded Widdle with a sorrowful frown.

“Name, rank and number!” Sergeant-Major MacNutt ordered.

“Widdle, J, Private, three-six-three-six-oh,” Widdle replied in a rather effeminate voice.

“SAH!” Prompted MacNutt loudly.

“SAH!” repeated Widdle as he jumped with surprise.

“Well, now, what's the charge Sergeant-Major?” Captain Keene asked as he looked up despairingly at Widdle from behind his desk.

“Gross dereliction of duty,” explained MacNutt, “resulting in the loss of government property, SAH!”

“What government property?” Keene asked tiredly.

“Underpants, woollen, privates for the use of, one, SAH!”

“Underpants?” Keene winced at the sound of MacNutt's voice, “How did you manage that?” he asked Widdle, “Where were they?”

“I regret to inform you, sir, that they were about Private Widdle's person, sir,” MacNutt sneered before adding, “about his lower person.”

Buffy bit her tongue to stop herself from laughing out loud.

“What?” Captain Keene looked aghast at Widdle before turning his gaze on MacNutt, “You mean he was actually _wearing_ them?”

“Yes sir,” MacNutt confirmed.

Buffy sniggered loudly but no one seemed to notice as they were all so shocked by Widdle's heinous crime.

“Good grief, Widdle,” Keene looked at Widdle with contempt in his eyes, “How could you?”

“I felt the cold sir,” Widdle pleaded as Buffy snorted with unrestrained amusement and got a hard glare from Sergeant-Major MacNutt; she quickly brought her merriment under control.

“That's no excuse, man!” Keene snapped, “The Inverlockty Highlanders never wear anything under the kilt...” he shook his head sadly, “...its part of our glorious tradition, just look at our motto,” Keene glanced over to where a large, carved wooden copy of the regiment's cap-badge hung on the wall. “Semper Promptus Actus-Always Ready for Action...”

“But if we're not allowed to wear them,” Widdle spoke up, “why are we issued with them?”

Buffy had to agree, Widdle had made an interesting point.

“There are two occasions were the wearing of underpants is permitted,” Captain Keene counted off the points on his fingers, “One, church parade. Two, gymnastic display, but only when there are ladies present.” Once again Keene shook his head in despair, “Really, Widdle you shock me. Wearing them is bad enough, but losing them...”

“Erm...beg pardon, sir,” Widdle interrupted the officer, “I didn't exactly lose them...they were ripped off!”

Every one, including Buffy and excepting Widdle, gasped.

“Ripped off?” Keene's eyes grew round at this piece of intelligence, “By whom?”

“I didn't catch his name,” Widdle shook his head, “But he was a huge Burpa.”

“You mean to say a native knows that you were wearing underpants!?” Captain Keene cried out in alarm and despair.

Once again Buffy found herself trying hard to conceal her amusement, all this fuss over a pair of underpants and whether they were worn under the kilt or not. She, of course, always wore 'underpants', bloomers to be precise. A few Annas a week to the dhobi-wallah ensured anonymity and that no one ever found out what she wore under her kilt.

“Good grief!” Captain Keene stood up and started to look for his belt and sun helmet, “This is more serious than I thought.” Buckling up his belt he moved towards Buffy who'd found his helmet and was holding it out to him, “We must see His Excellency at once!”

0=0=0=0

Dhobi-wallah: The Wallah who does the dhobi. 


	3. Chapter 3

3.

**The Governor's Residence, Khalabar.**

Leading from the front like a good officer should, Captain Keene burst into Major Shorthouse's office without knocking.

“I say, Keene old man, what's the bother?” Major Shorthouse looked up from his desk where he'd been reading some erotic Indian poetry, “Bursting into a chap's office like that, anyone would think the house was on fire...” Shorthouse eyed the little group of soldiers who'd followed Keene into his office suspiciously, “...I say, the house hasn't caught fire has it?”

“No, Sir,” Captain Keene saluted, “I've got to see the Governor on a most important matter.”

“I say...” it was just about then that Major Shorthouse noticed Buffy standing at the back of the crowd and he stopped speaking for a moment.

Being an intelligent sort of chap, after all he was the Governor's military aide, Major Shorthouse often wondered when someone would say something about Corporal Summers being a woman; and a 'yankee' woman to boot! The way she hid her hair under her sun helmet didn't fool him for one moment; her smooth skin bereft of whiskers, her small hands and her legs...legs like than simply couldn't belong to a 'chap'. No, Corporal Summers was most definitely a 'chapette'. However, he seemed to be the only one to have noticed and until someone else said something he was keeping his mouth firmly closed, after all he could be wrong and he didn't want to make a fool of himself.

“I say, sir?” Captain Keene prompted when Major Shorthouse's eyes wandered off to stare at Corporal Summers.

“What?” Shorthouse blinked and came back from whatever fantasy world his mind had drifted off to.

“You said, 'I say', Sir then stopped talking,” Captain Keene pointed out.

“I did?” Shorthouse shrugged and turned all his attention back to Keene, “What was it you wanted?”

“I have to see the Governor right away,” Keene repeated.

“Sorry I can't disturb him now,” Shorthouse explained, “He's with the memsahib having a spot of tiffin.”

“Oh, that is awkward,” Keene shifted uncomfortably, it wasn't the done thing to disturb a chap while he was having a spot of tiffin with the mem. “However it is a matter of the utmost urgency.”

“Well,” Shorthouse sighed heavily before standing up and walking towards the door behind which the Governor and the memsahab were indulging in a spot of afternoon _tiffin_ , “I'll see if they've finished.”

Reaching the door Major Shorthouse knocked politely.

“ _You can't come in!_ ” yelled a male voice from the other side of the door.

“Certainly not, Sir,” Major Shorthouse replied, “but Captain Keene's here to see you on a matter of the utmost urgency.”

“ _Oh, alright, just a minute,_ ” came the Governor's muffled voice from behind the door.

“Just coming,” Shorthouse announced as he walked swiftly back to his desk as the door behind him opened.

“Now, what is it?” demanded Sir Sidney Ruff-Diamond as he burst into the room buttoning up his dressing gown as he did so, “You know I hate to be interrupted in mid-tiffin.”

“I know sir, I'm terribly sorry,” Shorthouse apologised as he sat down again.

“That's all very well,” Sir Sidney continued as he fussed with his dressing gown, “but it's not often the mem and I get the chance for a spot of tiffin these days. Now when we were in Calcutta, we had it twice a day every day....and three times on Sunday!”

“I'm afraid it's my fault, Your Excellency,” Captain Keene decided it was time for him to say something, all this talk of tiffin was making him feel uncomfortable and he'd not put any loose change in his sporran.

“Alright,” Sir Sidney sighed heavily, “I expect she'll keep it warm for me...what's so urgent that you had to interrupt my tiffin, Captain Keene?”

“Your Excellency,” Keene drew himself up and pulled back his shoulders, “I regret to inform you there's been an incident at the Pass.”

“Is that all?” Sir Sidney rolled his eyes, “There's always incidents at the Pass,” Sir Sidney chuckled, “You only have to make a pass at a local girl for there to be an incident at the pass.”

“I'm afraid this was no ordinary incident, sir,” Keene said pointedly, “If you'd like to listen to Private Widdle's story.”

“Alright, alright,” jerking his head to one side Sir Sidney indicated that he wanted to use Major Shorthouse's desk; once the two men had traded places, Sir Sidney looked up from his seat behind the Major's desk and indicated that Widdle should tell his tale.

Having heard Widdle's story before and not having many chances to visit the Governor's residence, Buffy took the time to look around. The room was painted a cool white, and there were tall French windows to her left which let in a cooling breeze from off the shaded veranda. The room was filled with, heavy, dark wooden furniture and there was a painting of Queen Victoria over the empty fire place. Having studied the room, Buffy next caste her eyes over the governor himself. Governor Sir Sidney Ruff-Diamond was a man in early middle-age with grey, crinkly hair that was turning silver at his temples. He had a 'craggy' face with a voice to match. Realising that Widdle had come to the end of his tale of woe, Buffy started to pay attention to what was being said by everyone.

“Underpants?” Sir Sidney looked confused, “But you fellows don't wear 'em.”

“No, sir,” Keene sighed heavily, “but Private Widdle did, if the natives ever get to hear about this, sir, it will completely destroy our reputation for toughness.”

“He's right sir, you know,” Major Shorthouse agreed with Captain Keene, “A little thing like this could spark off a full scale rebellion...”

“Oh, hardly Shorthouse,” the governor pooh-poohed the idea.

“The massacre of thousands of innocent people...” Shorthouse continued unperturbed by Sir Sidney's doubts.

“Ha! Please, really,” laughed Sir Sidney.

“The end of British rule in India...” Shorthouse added.

“Oh, rubbish!” Sir Sidney exclaimed.

“And the end of a cushy job for you, sir.” Shorthouse concluded.

“You're quite right we'll have to do something,” Sir Sidney changed his tune in a heartbeat.

“Sir,” Captain Keene spoke up, “our only hope is to try and scotch the rumours before they spread too far.”

“You're right,” Sir Sidney thumped the desk with the palm of his hand before jumping to his feet.

“At last,” Buffy muttered under her breath, she'd been wondering when someone would decide to actually do something; if herself, Giles and her friends had taken this long just to decide to do something the world would have been overrun by evil hell gods ages ago.

“I'll go and see the Khasi personally,” Sir Sidney said as he headed towards the door that hid 'the mem' and the tiffin she was keeping warm for him, “You and the Sergeant-Major will come with me, we'll start out in an hour.”

With that Sir Sidney shut the door behind him and was gone.

0=0=0=0

**A little time later.**

“What do you want me to do with Widdle, Sergeant-Major?” Buffy asked once everyone was back at the company offices.

“What?” MacNutt was a little distracted by the prospect of going to the Khasi's palace and meeting the Khasi himself.

“Look, I mean,” Buffy explained, “Captain Keene didn't give him a punishment, so what should I do with him?”

“Good point,” MacNutt scratched the back of his head, “and I'm sure that an intelligent lad like yourself will come up with an answer!”

“Sergeant-Major!” Buffy cried as she watched MacNutt disappear out the door and hurry off in the direction of Captain Keene's office, “Oh darn,” Buffy sighed before turning to look at Widdle who was still standing, more or less at attention, in the corner of her office, “What am I going to do with you Widdle?”

“Don't know Corporal,” Widdle replied.

“That was a rhetorical question Widdle,” Buffy snapped, “Now shut up and let me think.”

0=0=0=0

**The Khasi's Palace.**

The Khasi chuckled softly to himself as he watched Sir Sidney and his party hurry from the audience chamber.

“You are pleased, my father?” Princess Jelhi asked.

“Indeed, light of my life,” the Khasi smiled benevolently at his daughter, “the British have shown themselves to be even bigger fools than I took them for,” he glanced over to where the underpants were proudly displayed on a plaque on the wall, “so I'd appreciate it if you did not make the eyes of the cow at British officers.”

The Khasi had noticed the looks his daughter had been giving that fool Keene.

“I'm sorry, my father,” Princess Jelhi cast her eyes towards the floor and giggled prettily, “but he is very pretty.”

“I wonder how pretty you'll think he is with his head on a spike,” the Khasi replied, “now leave me go and visit your mother...”

“Of course, father,” Princess Jelhi stood up but hesitated before leaving her father's presence, “Which one is she again?”

“Oh!” the Khasi cried almost losing his patience, “How many more times do I have to explain?”

Princess Jelhi said nothing as she shuffled her feet in embarrassment.

“She with the hair like burnished copper and the eyes as green as emeralds...” the Khasi took a deep breath before adding, “...and number thirty-two stamped on her butt!”

Watching as his daughter hurried away, the Khasi decided that it was time to marry his daughter off to one of his supporters, Bungdit Din perhaps? Thinking of the great warrior, the Khasi smiled before calling the warrior's name. Moments later the great Burpa appeared in front of the Khasi.

“You called my Lord,” Bungdit Din asked as he stood before his chieftain.

“Indeed I did,” the Khasi rested an elbow on the arm of his throne as his fingers toyed with the gold tassels at the end of his sash. “The British are even greater fools that even I had taken them for, the time is ripe to raise the tribes and sweep the British from Khalabar.”

“Erm...well...your Highness, I'm not so sure,” Bungdit Din fidgeted under his overlord's gaze.

“You have a different view point?” the Khasi asked menacingly.

“Well, your highness, are you sure that the time is now?” Bungdit Din asked, “Should we not wait a little longer before we sweep the British dogs from all of Khalabar?”

“Wait?” the Khasi asked incredulously, “Wait? Even when we are armed with the 'Miracle of the Underpants'?”

“Precisely, oh great one,” Bungdit Din started to explain, “we only have the one set of underpants, what proof do we have that the Devils in Skirts all wear similar pieces of clothing?”

“Did you not see the reaction of Keene and that buffoon MacNutt when Sir Sidney ordered them to lift their skirts?”

“Indeed I did, Your Highness,” Bungdit Din agreed.

“So they were obviously hiding something,” the Khasi replied.

“Indeed oh great one, but again,” Bungdit Din shrugged, “what proof do we have to show the chieftains of the hill tribes?”

“Ah!” the Khasi realised now that Bungdit Din had a point, “Goodness gracious me, you mean we will need proof that the Devils in Skirts all wear such things under their skirts.”

“Without it the chieftains will be unwilling to rise and sweep the British from all Khalabar.” Bungdit Din pointed out.

“Hmmm...” the Khasi rubbed his chin as he tried to think of a way around the problem, “well, it can't be helped,” he said eventually, “you, Bungdit Din go up into the hills and call all the chiefs to your fortress while I try to find some proof that these British aren't the devils we thought they were!”

0=0=0=0

**The Company Offices of the Inverlockty Highlanders, Khalabar.**

After everyone had gone to the Khasi's palace and left Buffy with Widdle, she'd fallen back on that old army punishment. Now everything that had once been painted black was now painted white and everything that had been painted white was now black. Having set Widdle to painting she'd gone back to her office just in time to see the Governor, Captain Keene and Sergeant-Major MacNutt return from their visit to the Khasi. Listening to the raised voices coming from Captain Keene's office, Buffy got up from her desk and crept over to the door to listen more closely.

“I've never been so embarrassed in all my life!” cried Sir Sidney; Buffy could imagine him pacing up and down Captain Keene's office.

“I'm terribly sorry sir,” Keene replied, “I'd no idea you'd want us to demonstrate.

Buffy wondered what Sir Sidney had wanted Captain Keene and the Sergeant-Major to do.

“What are you wearing them for, anyway?” Sir Sidney demanded.

Ah-ha, Buffy smiled, back to the underpants again

“But they're not woollen ones,” Captain Keene tried to explain, “I had them made over here, they're Indian silk.”

“Silk!” Buffy could hear the desperation and horror in Sir Sidney's voice. “Can you imagine what they'll say when it gets out that the commander of the Devils in Skirts wears silk bloomers?”

“I would like to say, Your Excellency, that _I_ am only wearing them out of a sense of duty,” this was the Sergeant-Major's voice now, “my mother sent them to me.”

“I don't care if they were hand embroidered by your father!” Sir Sidney yelled while Buffy stuck her fist into her mouth to stop her laughter escaping; she was starting to see Sergeant-Major MacNutt in a whole new light.

“He did do the flowers,” MacNutt explained quietly.

“FLOWERS!?” Screamed Sir Sidney as his world and possibly British rule in India collapsed around him. “Its like some horrible canker spreading through the army.”

“But none of the other men wear them,” Captain Keene said desperate to placate the Governor, “I can assure you of that, sir.”

“That's correct, Sir,” MacNutt added his voice to that of his captain, “the men respect the tradition of the regiment.”

“Do they indeed?” Sir Sidney spoke so softly that had Buffy not been possessed of slayer hearing she'd have missed what he'd said, “Well there's only one way to find out,” the governor laughed slowly, “we'll hold a surprise underpants parade and then we'll see just how tough you Devils in Skirts really are.”

In her office Buffy gasped in surprise, no one was seeing her bloomers; at least not without taking her out to dinner and a show first (she'd always wanted to go and see 'Cats'). Thinking quickly, Buffy started to work on a plan to get herself excused from the underpants inspection parade.

0=0=0=0


	4. Chapter 4

4.

_If your officer's dead and the sergeants look white,  
Remember it's ruin to run from a fight:  
So take open order, lie down, and sit tight,  
And wait for supports like a soldier._

'The Young British Soldier'; R Kipling.

**The Governor's Residence, Khalabar.**

As it turned out, Buffy found an easy way of avoiding the 'underpants inspection parade' there by preventing anyone from seeing her bloomers (without the necessity of first taking her out to dinner and a show) and discovering that she was in fact a girl. This last might seem strange to anyone who's read the previous chapters because Buffy had been complaining that no one had noticed that she was in fact a girl. The casual observer might think the inspection was the perfect opportunity to _expose_ her womanhood to the world (in the best possible taste of course), be discharged from the army and do...and do what?

At this point in history there weren't many career openings for a young woman and the British army, clothed (okay her clothes weren't exactly fashionable) fed and paid her. It also gave her the opportunity to use her more than adequate combat skills and...and, well, she had this feeling that life was going to get pretty _interesting_ in the very near future. So, she didn't really want her lack of certain _equipment_ to be discovered just at the moment. Her plan to avoid the inspection was simplicity itself. As she typed Company Orders everyday it was easy enough for her to just type in her own name as 'Corporal of the Guard' and thus be excused from all other parades and inspections for the day in question.

At the appointed hour for the inspection, Buffy was out checking on the guard detail for the Governor's Palace and was able to observe proceedings from the safety of the guard house next to the main gate. Watching as the rest of the company was marched onto the parade ground in front of the palace, Buffy smiled as she saw Sir Sidney and Sergeant-Major MacNutt take up position in front of the men. For a moment or two, Buffy wondered if MacNutt had removed his underpants and was 'en natural' under his kilt.

Pushing these thoughts from her mind and asking herself if she should really be there watching as her comrades in arms were about to expose their 'equipment' to the world; Buffy told herself, 'Oh what the hell' and settled down to watch the fun. On MacNutt's word of command the men of the Inverlockty Highlanders lifted the fronts of their kilts to expose...a surprising variety of underwear. Not a man on parade was following regimental tradition; they all wore some form of underpants and as Buffy studied all the underwear before her she started to worry about the 'masculinity' of some of the soldiers.

Three things were certain to Buffy; as a result of this parade, heads were going to roll. The dhobi-wallah was probably making a small fortune in bribes to keep the identity of the underpants wearers secret and lastly...Buffy decided she really needed to find out where some of the guys got their underwear made.

Unbeknown to Buffy and hidden from even a slayer's sharp eyes the curtains in an upstairs room of the Governor's Palace twitched as a camera lens was pushed up to the open window. A lens cap was removed, seconds were counted down before the cap was replaced. In less than five seconds a photographic record was made of the entire incident. If certain people ever found out that the photograph existed and it fell into their hands, British Rule in India would come to a swift and extremely bloody end.

0=0=0=0

**The Khasi's Palace.**

Sitting on his throne, the Khasi pondered the problem of how he was going to convince the hill chiefs that the Devils in Skirts were not to be feared as they wore such ridiculous garments under their skirts (the fact that the Highlanders wore 'skirts' in the first place didn't seem to bother him). Finally he decided that short of some form of pictorial evidence which could not be denied he would have to lead the hill chiefs into the Governor's palace and lift the skirts of the soldiers on duty there himself. Even the Khasi in his lust for power and the expulsion of the British from his homeland realised that this was not a good plan.

The Khasi's musings were interrupted when a servant appeared and announced the arrival of Lady Joan Ruff-Diamond, the Governor's one and only wife. For a moment the Khasi wondered how the British managed with only one wife each. A thought struck him at that very moment; perhaps, he mused, the fact that the British only allowed themselves one wife and that the weather was so appalling in their homeland that this had led to the British going out into the world and 'acquiring' most of it for their Empire.

Further thought on this interesting idea had to be put to one side as Lady Ruff-Diamond was shown into his audience chamber. The Khasi's nostrils flared as a he studied Lady Ruff-Diamond, all of a sudden he felt some sympathy for Sir Sidney. Imagine having 'tiffin' with that, the Khasi asked himself and found that he couldn't. Lady Ruff-Diamond wasn't exactly fat, no, the Khasi shook his head, he wasn't a cruel man (by the particularly low standards of his day) so he wouldn't call her fat, short and dumpy yes, but not fat. On closer inspection the Khasi decided that in all probability Lady Ruff-Diamond had been rather attractive in her youth but she had let herself 'go' in the intervening years. Standing up and crossing the floor of his throne room, the Khasi shook hands with Lady Ruff-Diamond and invited her to sit with him at the window. He ordered one of his many servants to bring some tea.

“Now my dear Lady Ruff-Diamond,” the Khasi said solicitously, “how may I help you?”

“Oh, Khasi,” Lady Ruff-Diamond smiled as she reached inside her jacket, “its more what I can do to help you.”

Pulling forth the damning photograph of the inspection parade, she handed it to the Khasi. Just for a moment the Khasi didn't fully appreciate what he held in his hand. However, very soon the rupee dropped and with eyes wide and nostrils flaring yet again, he laughed (evilly), long and hard as he realised he held the key to the downfall of British rule in his very hand. Soon he'd be able to show that overly busty goddess that he'd been right all along, soon he'd be able to take up his rightful position as Evil Overlord of the entire Northwest Frontier Province!

“MAW-HA-HA!” Chortled the Khasi, flushed with thoughts of his up and coming victories he turned to Lady Ruff-Diamond, “Oh my dear Lady Ruff-Diamond this is truly a very excellent photographic reproduction.”

“Yes, I thought you might like it,” Lady Ruff-Diamond giggled, “I heard all about the incident with Private Widdle.”

“Yes indeed,” some of the amusement left the Khasi's voice as he looked at the photograph again and wondered what game, Lady Ruff-Diamond could be playing. “But this is such very excellent anti-British propaganda, I can't help wondering why you brought it to me.”

“Well can't you guess?” Lady Ruff-Diamond asked but only got a vacant look from the Khasi, “I though perhaps if I did something nice for you, you might do something nice for me.”

“A-ha, I understand,” at least the Khasi thought he did, but he was soon to be disabused of this thought, “if you were to allow me to keep this,” he gestured with the photograph, “what would you expect in return? Rubies? Emeralds? Diamonds...gold?”

“Oh no!” Lady Ruff-Diamond was shocked to think that the Khasi would believe she'd betray her country for something so crass as wealth (she put it down to him being a foreigner), “Oh,” Lady Ruff-Diamond gazed longingly at the Khasi, “can you not tell from the quickness of my breathing, the heaving of my bosom” (there was in fact a lot of bosom to heave), “the hot flush of my cheeks?”

“Ah,” the Khasi thought he could see what was wrong here, “you are perhaps requiring a laxative?”

“Oh no, I had that last week!” Lady Ruff-Diamond explained, “Ever since I first saw you, I haven't been able to keep you out of my mind. I lie awake at night thinking of your strong arms around me, your hot lips on mine and our bodies entwined in oriental passion!”

“Yes, yes,” the Khasi was willing to do almost anything to get rid of the British, but their were certain lines that not even he would cross and what Lady Ruff-Diamond appeared to be suggesting might well be one of them, he had to be sure, “But what is it that you want?”

“Oh stone the bleedin' crows!” Lady Ruff-Diamond sighed, she gestured at the photograph in the Khasi's hand, “Look, do you want it or not?”

“Oh yes, most certainly,” the Khasi stared with power hungry eyes at the photo.

“Well then,” Lady Ruff-Diamond gasped her bosom heaving in a dramatic and slightly frightening way, “you'll have to take me with it!”

“Take you...?” the Khasi's worst fears had been realised, he knew exactly what Lady Ruff-Diamond wanted for the photograph; very quickly he thought of a way out of his present predicament. “But you drive an impossible bargain,” the Khasi smiled sadly, “Dear lady, I do not make love...”

“You don't!?” Lady Ruff-Diamond screeched in disbelief.

“No,” the Khasi shook his turbaned head and explained, “you see I am extremely rich, I have servants to do _everything_ for me.”

“Oh well that puts the pith-helmet on it,” Lady Ruff-Diamond snatched the photograph back from the Khasi's hand as she stood up in preparation to leave.

“But perhaps, in your case I might be willing to make an exception,” the sight of the photograph being taken from his hand had concentrated the Khasi's mind wonderfully, “but,” he gently took the photograph back from Lady Ruff-Diamond's hand, “I must take this immediately to show to my warriors in the hills...” the Khasi stood up and looked down at Lady Ruff-Diamond, “...and then I will return to attend with you.”

“Oh no you won't,” Lady Ruff-Diamond snatched the photograph from the Khasi's hand once more, “You'll attend to me first!”

“But I must take that with me...now!” blustered the Khasi.

“Then, take me with you,” Lady Ruff-Diamond leaned towards the Khasi her lips aching to be crushed by his.

“But what about your husband?” the Khasi asked in the hopes of distracting Lady Ruff-Diamond for a moment.

“Oh! We don't want him along!” Lady Ruff-Diamond replied misunderstanding the Khasi's question.

“Will he not be angry that you've come away with me?” the Khasi asked hopefully.

“Oh, of course,” Lady Ruff-Diamond sniffed back a crocodile tear, “He'll be so upset.”

“Oh, do not worry,” the Khasi explained sympathetically, “before too long your husband and all the others will be dead.”

“Oh,” Lady Ruff-Diamond smiled, “that's alright then!”

As the two conspirators laughed (it has to be said that some of the conspirators laughed more sincerely than others) Princess Jelhi watched and listened from a balcony above her father's throne room. Realising that her father was planning on attacking Khalabar and slaughtering the British garrison there, she moved to save the man she loved.

0=0=0=0

**The Company Offices of the Inverlockty Highlanders, Khalabar.**

It was two days now since the fiasco of the 'underpants inspection' and Buffy had spent most of her time typing out new orders on the importance of Regimental Tradition to the maintenance of good moral and discipline. While at the same time also typing out the new and draconian measures that were being introduced to ensure that the men of the Inverlockty Highlanders remained completely underpants free in future.

Thinking that all this typing wasn't a good use of her natural talents, Buffy continued to type away at the reams of orders being issued from the Governor's office. There was also the problem of what she should do about her own nether garments. Deciding she was damned if she took them off and damned if she kept them on...and the kilts were really scratchy and itchy, Buffy decided to keep her own underwear firmly in place (unless of course she was taken out to a particularly good dinner followed by a Broadway hit, after which anything was possible). Looking up from her typing, Buffy heard Captain Keene walk down the corridor outside her little office, moments later the man himself stuck his head around the corner of her door.

“Corporal Summers?”

“SIR!” Buffy jumped to her feet and stood rigidly at attention; in doing so she caused her breasts to become more obvious which made the captain frown a little.

“Join me in my office and bring Sergeant Major MacNutt with you,” Captain Keene ordered before disappearing into his office.

After finding the Sergeant Major, Buffy and MacNutt marched into Captain Keene's office and saluted as they stood to attention in front of his desk.

“Stand at ease, chaps,” Captain Keene said quietly, “information has come to my attention,” the information had been carried by a certain Princess Jelhi, “that the Khasi is in possession of a certain photograph of a certain parade.” 

Sergeant Major MacNutt gasped in shock as Buffy rolled her eyes. Anyone with half a brain could have guessed that something like this was bound happen.

“The Khasi intends to show the photograph to the hill tribes and lead a holy war against the British,” Keene explained, “meaning us here in Khalabar.”

“I take it Sir,” MacNutt asked, “that this means the situation is grim?”

“Indeed it does,” Keene replied, “but I have a plan...”

“You do?” Buffy asked; as far as she could see the best plan was to leave and come back later with reinforcements, but somehow she knew that the Captain's plan wouldn't be that simple.

“Yes I do,” Keene nodded, “I've talked this over with the Governor and Major Shorthouse and we're all agreed that a small party might be able to infiltrate the Khasi's fortress in the hills and destroy or recapture the photograph.”

“Sounds simple enough to me,” said Sergeant Major MacNutt.

“Yes, indeed,” Keene nodded his head, “however there is one little complication...”

“There is?” MacNutt and Buffy said in chorus.

“Indeed, yes,” Keened nodded his head sadly, “and this information must not leave this room...it seems Lady Ruff-Diamond gave the Khasi the photograph and has left for the hills with the Khasi...willingly!”

“Bitch!” Buffy muttered.

“Now, now, now, Corporal Summers,” Captain Keene wagged his finger at Buffy crossly, “we mustn't judge her Ladyship's actions too harshly...after all she's only a woman.”

“Indeed Sir,” MacNutt agreed not noticing the way Buffy was grinding her teeth. “So, what do you want us to do about it?”

“I want you to come into the hills with me and help me recapture her Ladyship and then destroy the photograph,” Keene looked up hopefully at Buffy and MacNutt before adding, “There'll be medals all 'round for this one chaps!”

“Oh well if there's medals,” Buffy replied sarcasticly, “you can count me in, Sir.”

“And me Sir!” MacNutt added enthusiastically.

“Jolly good,” Captain Keene smiled, “I knew I could rely on you chaps.”

“Permission to speak, Sir?” Buffy asked having realised she'd just talked herself onto this little expedition and she wanted to make sure that it was successful and more importantly that one, Buffy Summers would get back alive and whole to Khalabar.

“You have a suggestion, Corporal Summers?” Keene asked.

“Yes Sir, can I like, suggest that we take a guide and wear some sort of disguise,” Buffy gestured to everyone's kilts, “the 'Devils in Skirts' thing is totally obvious, sir.”

“Of course,” agreed Keene, “some form of disguise goes without saying, but where are we going to find a man with the knowledge, moral fibre and the raw courage to lead us into this pit of vipers?”

“I think I know just the man, Sir,” Buffy smiled knowingly.

0=0=0=0


	5. Chapter 5

5.

Harem, scare ‘em, what d'ya think of that,  
Bare knees, striptease, dancing on the mat,  
Umpa! Umpa! That's enough of that,  
In the old bazaar in Khalabar.

'In the Old Bazaar in Cairo'; Chester, Morris and Ford.

**The old bazaar in Khalabar.**

Pushing her way through the crowded streets of Khalabar, Buffy covered her face with the loose end of her sari as two Inverlockty Highlanders passed by on the other side of the street. Her actions weren't due to any sort of religious consideration, she just didn't want to take the chance that someone might recognise her.

From time to time, Buffy liked to be a girl again; yes, she spent all day in a kilt, which was sort of a skirt, but it wasn't very 'girlie'. Particularly when you were surrounded by loads of guys wearing exactly the same outfit. So, not long after she found herself in the Raj, Buffy'd sneaked away into Khalabar itself and rented a small apartment. Next she'd gone out and bought herself her first sari...shortly after that she'd found someone to explain to her how to wearit. It seemed that there were multiple ways of wearing a sari and putting one on was something of an art.

Having once mastered the art of sari wearing, Buffy had bought several others until she now had a fine collection and could roam the town without fear of being recognised (as long as she covered her blonde hair and white face that is). The story she encouraged her comrades at the barracks to believe, was that Corporal Summers had an Indian wife and children stashed away somewhere in Khalabar. Not only did this appear to satisfy her fellow soldiers curiosity it also increased her reputation for 'manliness' amongst the Highland soldiers.

Today, however, she was out and about looking for the Reverend Belcher; Buffy knew if there was one man that could guide them up into the mountains just across the border, that man was the good Reverend. However, Buffy also knew that the Reverend wasn't that 'good', in fact he was famous for being a money grabbing, lecher and coward. Unfortunately he was the only man for the job.

Coming to the corner of the street leading into the market place, Buffy peeped carefully around the corner to see the Reverend in his accustomed place on the shady side of the market place. The man was dressed in white trousers with a black, long tailed jacket over a white shirt and waistcoat. Although Buffy was wearing a sari she still found Khalabar warmer than her Californian home, so, Belcher must be cooking inside his outfit. Belcher's only real concession to the local climate was the sun helmet he wore with its long pugri hanging down his back.

The man stood on a small cart that had been converted into a sort of mobile pulpit, above Belcher's head was a banner that read, 'Wigan Missionary Society'. These, Buffy knew, were the poor saps that funded Belcher's life of debauchery out here in the East. They believed that the Reverend was bringing the 'poor benighted heathens' into the 'light' of Christianity. The 'poor benighted heathens' however were secure in their own beliefs and generally ignored Belcher's attempts at converting them to his weird religion.

“Repent ye before it is too late!” the Reverend Belcher cried out as he was totally ignored by everyone except a small native boy who stood picking his nose as he looked up at the insane white-man.

“Leave the primrose path of sin and wickedness and enter the fold with the other poor sheep,” as if on cue a goat bleated close by, however this didn't distract Belcher from his 'good works', “I say unto you, worldy goods are a curse and an abomination, money is a burden,” Belcher picked up his collection box and held it out to the passing locals who continued to ignore him, “let me relieve you of that burden...” Realising he was losing his non-existent audience, Belcher tried a slightly different tack, “There is no profit in worldly goods. No...no...”

Buffy left her hiding place and started to cross the market place towards Belcher's mobile pulpit.

“Nor is there any joy to be found in wanton wallowing in the pleasures of the flesh,” Belcher continued as he glanced down to see Buffy looking up at him.

Of course Belcher had no idea who Buffy was, he simply assumed she was some pretty native girl.

“Let not the painted houri lure you with...” Belcher's voice slowly faded away as Buffy fluttered her eyelashes at him before giving him a 'come hither' wink. “...with lustful embraces...” by now Belcher only had eyes for Buffy, however he continued to preach awhile longer, “Nor let the coal-fringed eyes lure you...lure you...” a lecherous smile crossed Belcher's face as he stammered to a halt, “...erm....” he hesitated for a moment before lifting his helmet from his brow and dabbing at his forehead with a large red handkerchief, “...oh bugger this for a game of Methodists!”

Turning, Belcher paused to switch the sign that said, 'Sinners Welcomed with Open Arms' around to show the legend, 'Gone for Tiffin'. Stepping down from his pulpit he linked his arm through Buffy's, before bending down so his mouth was on a level with her ear; he whispered, “Come with me, my dear and I'll show you the Missionary Position on sin and vice!”

Giggling girlishly, Buffy allowed herself to be lead across the market square and down a side street. Unnoticed by Belcher, Captain Keene and Sergeant-Major MacNutt stepped out of the shadows and into the street before starting to follow the 'happy' couple. Walking along the narrow streets and through the bustling crowd, Buffy felt Belcher's hand slip from her arm to rest on her butt. Smiling through her revulsion for the man, Buffy imagined ripping his arm off and using it to beat him to death with.

All too soon they arrived at the rooms that Belcher called home. Unlocking his front door with a key that was held in a trembling hand he ushered Buffy inside. Walking into what was obviously a combined living and bedroom, Buffy had to admit that it wasn't anywhere near as bad as she'd expected it to be, it was in fact quite nice. However, she'd hardly had time to start to admire Belcher's collection of nick-knacks when she found herself struggling to fend off Belcher's wandering hands.

So taken by surprise was she that Buffy had found herself pushed down onto the Reverend's bed with one of his hands on her breast while the other tried to find its way through the yards of material that made up the skirt of her sari. All the time Belcher was trying to 'unwrap' Buffy he called out things like, 'fight the good fight', 'glory hallelujah' and once or twice 'Wahaaay!'

Deciding the time had come to exert a little slayer strength (Belcher's hand had already made its way to her knees which she was keeping firmly pressed together) Buffy suddenly stopped being the 'girl of negotiable virtue' and instead became the girl who was about to pull your arms clean off. Almost before he realised that the situation had changed, Belcher found that the pretty native girl had him in an extremely painful arm-lock. Just as he was coming to terms with this suddenly changed situation the door burst open and in strode Captain Keene and Sergeant-Major MacNutt.

“Well done Corporal Summers,” Keene cried on seeing that Buffy had Belcher securely restrained, “but I think you can let the Reverend go now.”

“Yes Sir!” Buffy let go of Belcher before jumping to her feet and saluting the captain who, just for a moment stood there staring at Buffy and her outfit.

“I say Corporal Summers,” Keene said slowly, “dashed effective disguise there, how do you...” Keene pointed vaguely with his swagger stick towards Buffy's breasts, “...I mean how...?”

“Amateur dramatics Sir,” Buffy explained, “there's always a shortage of women to play the female parts so because I'm short...”

“Oh I see,” Keene nodded, he seemed to have forgotten about Belcher for a moment, “so you stuff rolled up socks up your shirt or something?”

Noticing that the Captain was distracted for a moment, Belcher made a bolt for the door but found his way blocked by the looming bulk of Sergeant-Major MacNutt.

“Or something, Sir,” Buffy agreed with Keene.

“Anyway I must say they're most effective,” Keene added, “you'd almost believe they were real...anyway well done Corporal, I'll make sure your devotion to duty is noted down in your records.”

“Yes Sir, thank-you, Sir,” Buffy saluted again as Sergeant-Major MacNutt gave her a 'I'll talk to you later' look.

“Right now, where were we?” Keene said with false jollity, he turned and pointed his cane at Belcher, “Ah yes! Reverend Belcher, I have a little job for you!”

“Ah! Captain Keene,” Belcher breathed a sigh of relief now his arm had been released from Buffy's vice like grip, “I was just giving this young lady,” he gestured towards Buffy, “some moral guidance.”

“You were?” Keene looked from Belcher to Buffy and back again, “Well its just as well we arrived when we did, Reverend,” Keene smiled insincerely, “as I'm sure _Corporal Summers_ needs no guidance of that sort.”

“ _Corporal_ Summers?” Belcher said as he caught up with the plot.

“Yes,” Keene's smile grew wider as the Reverend's discomfort grew, “Anyway, as I was saying I have a little job for you.”

“Ah! A bit of Bible reading perhaps,” Belcher asked hopefully, “or a soupçon of psalm singing?” the Reverend smiled expectantly, “Psalm singing comes a bit more expensive.”

“No, no,” Keene reassured him as MacNutt continued to loom menacingly in the background, “its nothing like that. We'd like you to act as a guide on a little military expedition.”

“Military?” Belcher gasped, “Me?” visions of himself being hacked into bloody little pieces by angry natives filled Belcher's mind for a moment, eventually he said, “Certainly not!”

“Its the only way you can stop us talking,” Keene gestured with his swagger stick once more, “I mean how do you think the god-fearing people of Wigan would take it if they found out about your little adventures with soldiers dressed up as dancing girls?”

“But Captain,” Belcher pleaded, “I didn't know she...I mean _he_ was actually a soldier.”

“Oh,” Keene pointed out, “you think the people of Wigan will take it better if they found out you were consorting with native dancing girls?”

“Yes!” cried Belcher in panic, “I mean no...look you don't seriously expect me, a man of peace, an advocate of brotherly love...” Belcher paused for a second as he realised that his last statement might not be quite the right thing to say under the circumstances, “...erm, what was I saying? Oh yes, that I, a man of peace, should lend himself to a military punch-up?”

“You'll get ten rupees a day of course,” Sergeant-Major MacNutt pointed out.

“When do we start?” Belcher asked eagerly.

“Right away,” Captain Keene said as he turned and led the little group out of the building and into the street.

0=0=0=0

**The Khasi's Palace, Khalabar.**

Opening her mouth in a wide yawn, Kali stretched as she woke up. Standing on top of her plinth at the end of her little temple, she looked around the dark interior hoping to see some worshippers. The only thing she saw was a fly that flew lazily between the dust motes that danced in the beams of light coming in through the skylights. Lifting one of her scimitars, she cut the fly neatly in half and silenced its buzzing forever.

“Now where's the Khasi?” she asked as she stepped down from her plinth and looked around the deserted temple.

Once again as the goddess moved she became less like a bronze statue and more like a normal girl; if a normal girl had four arms, three eyes, a blood bloated belly, more weapons than the average hill warrior and a pair of magnificent breasts. It had to be admitted that her breasts were the goddesses best feature.

“Hmmmm,” the goddess mused, “this is most odd...where's that big nostrilled weasel of a Khasi?”

Normally when she woke up the Khasi or one of his henchmen would be around. The presence of the Khasi or one of her devoted followers was normally the reason she woke up and became real. So, why had she woken up when there was no one around? Putting down a couple of her weapons, Kali hitched up her skirts as she walked around the confines of her temple, something odd was going on here and when she found out what it was heads would roll...literally.

Pausing at the door that lead out into the Khasi's throne room, Kali hesitated and asked herself, should she go out into the real world? It had been centuries since she'd ventured outside any of her temples, what if there were a load of other gods waiting outside to shout 'SURPRISE!' and throw her a party? Kali hated surprise parties. Thinking the problem through for a moment Kali came to a decision; she needed to find out why she'd been woken up. As there was no one in the temple it looked like she needed to go outside. If she went outside there was a possibility of there being a bunch of loser gods out there just waiting to throw one of their stupid parties. However, if she disguised herself then the gods wouldn't recognise her and she'd be able to find out what was going on and why she'd been woken up.

The air shimmered around the goddess as she changed her appearance to that of a pretty, temple dancing girl (Kali did however keep her impressive boobs, but dumped the weapons, teeth and the extra set of arms). Turning the door handle she stepped out into the throne room to find it totally bereft of gods with party streamers and silly hats. Sighing a sigh of relief Kali walked across the marble floor of the throne room until she was standing next to the Khasi's throne. The room was deserted, in fact Kali could sense that the entire palace only held a few staff, just enough for maintenance work really. Suddenly realisation dawned and the goddess almost turned back into her hideous goddess form she was so angry.

“Oh that stupid Khasi!” Kali raged as she rushed over to the window at the far end of the room; she looked out to see the courtyard below just as deserted as the throne room, “What part of 'NO' doesn't he understand?”

Kali had ordered the Khasi not to raise the tribes in a futile attempt to drive the British out of India. As she'd pointed out the British had Maxim guns, magazine rifles and breach loading artillery. All her tribesman had were muskets, a few breachloaders and some old muzzle loading artillery pieces. Now she might be the goddess of blood and war and various other death related hobbies, but death had to _mean_ something. Yes, in principle, she was all in favour of throwing the British out of India, but, only when her tribesmen had a chance of succeeding. Not when the Khasi thought he could lead some sort of holy war because he'd got his hands on a pair of soiled underpants.

Turning, Kali stormed towards the exit of the throne room; she was going to find the Khasi and bring a halt to his ill timed adventure...and when she caught him he'd rue the day he'd ever been born!

0=0=0=0


	6. Chapter 6

6.

_A scrimmage in a Border Station,  
A canter down some dark defile,  
Two thousand pounds of education,  
Drops to a ten-rupee jezail.  
The Crammer's boast, the Squadron's pride,  
Shot like a rabbit in a ride!_

'Arithmetic of the Frontier'; R Kipling.

**The Road to Jaksi.**

Standing on the brow of the ridge, Buffy searched the track-way ahead of her for any sign of Afghan bandits. Seeing none she turned and walked the few paces to where the rest of the party waited out of sight on the reverse slope of the ridge.

“No sign of trouble, Sir,” Buffy reported to Captain Keene as she scratched her chin under the false beard she was wearing.

“Jolly good, Corporal Summers,” Keene replied, he looked at Buffy closely for a moment, “I say Corporal...”

“Sir?” Buffy stopped scratching and gave the officer her full attention.

“Erm...” Captain Keene hesitated for a moment, “...you've not got your socks still stuffed down the front of your shirt have you?”

Looking down at her chest, Buffy noticed that her native disguise was not as good as her army uniform at hiding the fact that she had breasts.

“Umm,” Buffy tried to think up a plausible explanation, thinking she had one she explained to the captain, “Yes Sir, spare socks sir, totally come in useful on an expedition like this, Sir.”

“Oh I see,” Keene nodded as he absently scratched under his own beard, “well, jolly good show and well thought out that...” Keene looked at Buffy's chest closely for several more seconds before he completed his sentence, “...man.”

Gesturing for everyone to follow him, Keene marched over the brow of the ridge and down into the valley beyond. Having taken Buffy's advice about wearing some sort of disguise the four representatives of the British Empire were dressed as Afghan hillmen complete with beards. They carried their limited supplies in leather satchels hung across their shoulders. They had long hillman knives tucked into the sashes around their waists and cartridge belts for their Martini-Henry rifles criss-crossed their chests. From a distance they looked like any small group of Afghan tribesmen going from 'A' to 'B', it was only when you got close to them that their beards gave them away.

Falling into step next to Sergeant-Major MacNutt, Buffy looked up at the man. Having found out that the Sergeant-Major had been wearing underpants with flowers embroidered on them, she'd been seriously doubting his masculinity and as a result had fallen out of lust with him. Lucky escape, she'd told herself; what if she'd got him into the bedroom only to find he still wore underpants with little embroidered flowers on them, Buffy sighed with relief, another romantic disaster narrowly avoided.

“Sergeant-Major,” Buffy said as she once again scratched under her fake beard, “what are these things made of?”

“Goat's hair,” MacNutt replied shortly as he scratched at his own disguise.

“Goat's hair?” Buffy replied, “Ewww...”

“No, I think it was a 'Bill',” MacNutt informed her.

“They could have totally washed it before hand,” Buffy sniffed at the beard and made a face, “So why are we going to Jaksi, exactly?”

“Jaksi is the stronghold of the Burpa Chief, Bungdit Din,” MacNutt explained as they marched on along the track, “he's the ally of the Khasi of Khalabar. Jaksi is the most likely place for them to meet-up. If the Khasi's there the chances are Lady Ruff-Diamond and the photograph will be there.”

“Oh,” Buffy nodded grateful for the plot recap, “I see and we'll just storm this stronghold, rescue Lady Ruff-Diamond and destroy the photograph?”

“That's the idea,” MacNutt looked down to where Buffy walked beside him.

“Just the four of us?”

“Three.”

“Three?”

“Reverend Belcher is a non-combatant,” MacNutt explained.

“Oh, and just how many tribesmen will be in this Jaksi place then Sergeant-Major?” Buffy wanted to know.

“Thousands of 'em, most likely,” MacNutt replied.

“So, let me see if I've got this right,” Buffy frowned a little as she considered the likely outcome of them storming the town of Jaksi, “three of us and only thousands of them.”

“Yes I know,” MacNutt sighed heavily, “it hardly seems fair does it?”

“Erm, like, no!” Buffy agreed.

“Well then,” MacNutt swapped his rifle from one shoulder to the other, “they shouldn't have started it, they've only got themselves to blame.”

It was about then that Buffy realised that Sergeant-Major fully expected to win any fight between three 'Devils in Skirts' (who weren't even wearing their 'skirts') and untold thousands of Afghan tribesman.

“You know something, Sergeant-Major MacNutt?” Buffy asked quietly.

“What's that, Corporal Summers?”

“You're seriously weird!”

0=0=0=0

**Another Road to Jaksi.**

Walking along the dusty track that wound between the hills, Kali (or as she was now calling herself Busti) cursed herself for her foolishness. Having turned herself human she'd forgotten that she wouldn't be able to use most of her goddessly powers while in human form. This meant that instead of teleporting herself to Jaksi she had to walk, unless she wanted to turn herself back into a goddess and then back into a human once she got to Jaksi.

Transforming herself from goddess to human and back again took a lot of her power and made her sleepy. There was also the chance that the other gods might spot her while she was in her goddess form and outside of her temple. If that happened she'd soon have a bunch of half wit gods following her wherever she went. Her plan of finding the Khasi and putting the fear of herself into him would be seriously hampered by having a menagerie of mystical cows, elephants, storks, mongooses and monkeys following her wherever she went. The worse thing about it would be that the other gods would think they were being helpful; Kali really wished the other gods would 'get a life'.

Having been walking along the track with her head down and thinking about the other gods she usually shared nirvana with, Kali hadn't noticed the dozen or so bandits who had silently appeared from behind the boulders at the side of the track.

“Hi brothers!” cried the most villainous looking bandit as he came out onto the track, “What have we got here? A pretty dancing girl with huge knockers. What is your name girl?”

“If you know what's good for you,” Kali snapped angrily, she was in no mood to have bandits mess with her, “you'll leave now!”

“Ho-ho!” Laughed the bandit chief, “The kitten thinks she can scare us away with her little claws and teeth.”

“I said, get lost!” Kali snarled menacingly; the bandits simply laughed at her which just made Kali even more annoyed.

“Look,” the bandit chief smiled exposing bad teeth as he did so, “we won't rob you if you take off those nasty, tight clothes and dance for us.”

“Dance for you, you son of a dung beetle!?” Kali growled, “I would rather complete the Karma Sutra with a troop of apes!”

“Well if you prefer...” the bandit leader smiled menacingly, “...there's no apes here but my men and I would be willing to stand in for them.”

Looking around Kali found she was closely surrounded by bandits who were all leering at her lustily. Giving a little sigh, Kali shook her head slightly, she might not be in her goddess form but she was still preternaturally strong and an expert in armed and unarmed combat; she was also nearly impossible to kill. Moving faster than the human eye could deal with, Kali had killed three bandits before the others realised there was anything wrong.

Muskets flashed and banged as other men fired their weapons or grabbed for their swords only to find them turned against them. Six bandits lay dead as the dusty soil drank their blood; the remaining six realised they'd picked the wrong victim and turned to run. Unfortunately for them they didn't run quite fast enough. The goddess in human form raced after the fleeing bandits killing them one by one until only the chief was left alive. The bandit chief found himself pressed up against a boulder with nowhere to run as the little dancing girl held his own sword to his throat.

“I shall be merciful...this time,” Kali explained, “perhaps next time you'll think twice about trying to molest innocent dancing girls as they go about their business.”

There was a blur of movement and the bandit chief found himself alone except for the dead bodies of his men. Two or three hundred paces down the track, Kali slowed to a more normal pace and stopped for a moment. Looking back up the track she could see no sign of the bandit leader, she smiled, he was probably heading further into the supposed safety of the hills. Kali smiled wider still, there was nowhere he could hide from her if she wanted to find him again. Dismissing the bandit from her thoughts, Kali looked down at herself and adjusted the fall of her sari before checking it for splashes of blood. Satisfied that she once again looked like an innocent and entirely human dancing girl called Busti, Kali continued on her way towards Jaksi.

0=0=0=0

**Jaksi.**

Arriving in Jaksi at about mid-afternoon, Buffy and her friends found themselves in the square in front of Bungdit Din's fortress-like palace. The town of Jaksi itself was a typical border town with no sewers or street sweepers. The houses were all simple, flat roofed buildings that showed blank walls to the outside world as they were all built looking inwards onto internal courtyards. Some of the streets had shops with open fronts to display the wares of their owners or the craftsmen who worked there. However, most of the trade in the town was done in the great market square in front of the palace. Today there would be little trade taking place at the market because the square was full of Burpa warriors. They were waiting for Bungdit Din himself to to speak to them and it was amongst this great gathering of warriors that Buffy and her friends stood waiting to hear what the Burpa chief had to say for himself...or, to be hacked to death by Burpa warriors when they noticed that the interlopers were British (or in Buffy's case, American) spies.

There was a disturbance on a balcony up high in the palace which overlooked the marketplace, several guards took up positions on the balcony before Bungdit Din stepped out to receive the cheers of his tribesmen.

“Burpas!” Bungdit Din held up his arms for silence, “We are honoured today by a visit from the great and glorious Khasi of Khalabar!”

The Khasi stepped from behind Bungdit Din and raised his hand in greeting to the tribesmen down below in the market place; he was welcomed by a volley of shots as the tribesmen fired off their rifles in the general direction of the palace. The Khasi quickly took cover behind the stone wall of the balcony only to show himself again once the firing had stopped.

“What happened?” the Khasi asked his friend and ally, “What did I do wrong?”

“It is alright, Khasi,” Bungdit Din reassured him, “It is only their way of greeting a great leader such as yourself.”

“Oh, I see,” the Khasi stood tall again and smiled nervously at Bungdit Din.

“Burpas!” Once again Bungdit Din spread his arms wide as if he was embracing all his tribesman, “Listen to the Khasi and listen well, for he offers the chance of great glory.”

“You have heard your great leader, Bungdit Din,” the Khasi cried out loudly his huge nostrils flaring in the fresh mountain air (the palace was well above the stink of the town), “I come to you today because I need your help, it has long been know that the Burpas are the greatest warriors in all Afghanistan. Warriors who are fearless in battle and whose enemies tremble at the mere sound of your name!”

The Burpa warriors cheered and fired off a few wild shots in appreciation making the Khasi flinch a little as the bullets impacted the wall behind him.

“I have come to you today,” the Khasi continued regaining some of his poise, “to offer you the opportunity to take much loot and even greater glory!”

Another volley of shots sent the Khasi diving for cover as bullets whistled around his head or knocked lumps out of the wall behind him.

“I wish they wouldn't do that!” the Khasi called as he once again climbed to his feet.

“Do not worry my Khasi,” Bungdit Din rumbled, “they are very happy, if they hit you it'll only be by accident.”

“Oh, that's very reassuring,” the Khasi replied not sounding at all reassured; however he continued with his speech. “Let me explain how you can claim your glory and riches,” the Khasi went on, “We are going to rise up and drive the British from all of India...”

This announcement was met by complete silence from the assembled tribesman.

“What's wrong?” the Khasi asked as he turned to Bungdit Din for an explanation.

“I will find out what is wrong,” Bungdit Din explained as he walked up to the balcony wall to look down at the tribesmen. “Burpas! Why do you dislike the idea of fighting the British?”

“We cannot fight the Devils in Skirts,” came a voice from the crowd, “It is well known that they are invincible!” the speaker turned to his comrades, “Is this not so, brothers?”

There was a loud rumbling of agreement from the gathering of tribesmen.

“Do not talk to me of Devils in Skirts,” Bungdit Din shouted at the tribesmen angrily, “The skirts of the devils are as the skirts of women!” Bungdit Din produced the purloined underpants from under his tunic, he held them up for all to see, “Would the Devils in Skirts wear such a thing as this beneath their skirts?”

“My god!” Captain Keene gasped quietly, as he stood hidden in the crowd, “those are Private Widdle's underpants!”

“Can you fear men who wear such a thing as this?” Bungdit Din demanded of the tribesmen. “Now will you fight with us?”

Another wave of negative mutterings rolled through the crowd.

“It would need more than one garment to convince out chiefs,” called the speaker from the crowd, “we cannot fight without their permission.”

“They need more proof,” Bungdit din turned to look at the Khasi, “You have the picture here?”

“Yes,” the Khasi nodded, “Lady Ruff-Diamond has it.”

“Good,” Bungdit Din turned back to address the tribesmen, “Burpas! Go to your chiefs and tell them to come to my house and the Khasi will show them a picture proving that the Devils in Skirts are as women.”

With a great deal of muttering the tribesmen broke up and started to filter back into the streets of Jaksi leaving four figures to stand in the deserted market place.

“I say chaps,” Captain Keene said slowly as the market place emptied, “sounds like they've got her Ladyship and the photograph in the palace. We'll have to find a way of getting in and getting them out.”

“Permission to speak Sir?” Buffy asked as she stopped herself from saluting just in time.

“What is it Corporal Summers?” Keene asked as he turned and looked down at Buffy.

“Well Sir,” Buffy began to explain the plan that she'd thought up in about five seconds, “that Bungdit guy said to go and get the chiefs right?”

“So?” Keene frowned at Buffy not seeing her plan.

“Look,” Buffy continued, “couldn't we totally pretend to be chiefs and just, like, walk on in?”

“My god Summers that's brilliant!” Keene cried struggling to keep his voice down, “If this works it'll mean promotions for all of us!”

“And if it doesn't?” the Reverend Belcher asked.

“Oh,” Keene shrugged, “we'll be caught and I expect they'll flay us alive.”

0=0=0=0


	7. Chapter 7

7.

_Sand bags, wind bags, camels with a hump,  
Fat girls, thin girls, some a little plump,  
Slave girls sold here, fifty bob a lump,  
In the old bazaar in Jaksi._

'In the Old Bazaar in Cairo'; Chester, Morris and Ford.

**The Old Bazaar in Jaksi.**

“So, how do we get in?” Reverend Belcher wanted to know.

Everybody looked up at the gate to Bungdit Din's palace; it was a big, iron bound gate made of heavy timbers blackened with age. It was the sort of gate that was serious about its job and couldn't be intimidated into opening no matter how much Buffy frowned at it.

“Couldn't we just knock?” Sergeant-Major MacNutt suggested.

“Well...” Captain Keene looked around; there were no battering rams or pieces of field artillery lying around just waiting to be used to open recalcitrant gates, he shrugged, “...I suppose its worth a bash,” the captain turned to look at Reverend Belcher, “go on then Padre.”

“Me!” Belcher pointed at his own chest, “Why do I have to do it?”

“You're the only one who speaks the local lingo,” Keene pointed out with inescapable logic.

“But I'm a non-combatant,” Belcher cried with increasing panic, “you said so yourself!”

“The Captain's not asking you to fight,” Buffy pointed out.

“Just knock on the door,” MacNutt added menacingly.

“Oh all right then,” Belcher, realising he would have to do something, walked cautiously over to the gate and knocked very quietly. “There!” he cried his voice full of relief, “No one's at home, lets go...”

“Knock again,” ordered Captain Keene.

“What do I say?” Belcher asked pleadingly.

“Just tell them you want to see the Khasi,” Buffy suggested.

“Yes, good idea Corporal,” Keene agreed, “Tell them you want to see the Khasi and then leave the rest to us.”

With mounting trepidation, Belcher lifted his hand to knock at the gate again. Striking the gate with his fist, Belcher watched and waited for something to happen. He didn't have to wait for long; very soon a small hatch in the gate opened and a native guard looked down at Belcher in contempt.

“What you want?” demanded the guard.

“I want to see the Khasi...” Belcher proclaimed, “...and leave the rest to us!”

The guard let out a great shout and what sounded like a stream of abuse which made Belcher cower away from the gate. However, Belcher must have said something right because the gate was opened. Seeing the gate start to swing open, Captain Keene whipped out his sword and pointed it at the gate.

“Come on chaps,” he cried, “CHARGE!”

Pulling her own sword from its scabbard, Buffy followed Captain Keene towards the gate followed closely by Sergeant-Major MacNutt. Hitting the still opening gate first, Buffy forced it open faster than the guards had intended. One guard fell to the ground while several others stumbled out of the way. Finding herself in a large vestibule, Buffy looked around to see the entrance to a corridor which appeared to lead deeper into the palace. With a cry she led the British force further into the enemy stronghold.

“I say Corporal Summers,” Captain Keene called as he tried to regain control of the situation, “wait for us!”

By the time Captain Keene and his party had caught up with Buffy they were just in time to burst out into a large opulently furnished room. Sword in hand, Buffy burst out from the confines of the corridor to see her way blocked by about a dozen, attractive and scantily clad young women, at least one of whom had truly magnificent breasts!

0=0=0=0

Having reached Jaksi without being attacked again Kali/Busti had infiltrated Bungdit Din's palace disguised as a dancing girl, which was just as well because the dancing girl disguise was the only one she had available at the time. Finding herself trapped in the harem she'd been unable to find the Khasi and give him a piece of her mind, a particularly sharp piece of her mind she might add. Being chosen to be one of the girls sent to entertain the visiting chiefs, Kali had followed the other girls out into the main part of the palace where she and the other girls were told to line up and await the chieftain's pleasure.

Taken aback by the sudden appearance of four heavily armed chieftains who burst into the room waving their swords about it took Kali a moment to realise what was going on here. These weren't real chieftains, she told herself as her eye moved along the short line of men. In fact one of them wasn't even a real man, for a start she was too short and... Kali frowned as she looked at the short 'man' there was something _very_ odd about her indeed. However, she had to put off finding out what precisely because Bungdit Din took that very moment to appear in the room.

“Ah, gentlemen, you are welcome to my humble home,” Bungdit Din announced as he moved across the room towards the 'chieftains'. “I have been expecting you, please,” the great warrior chieftain smiled, “put up your swords.”

“The chance would be a fine thing,” Belcher muttered quietly as they all sheathed their weapons.

“We offer you only friendship here,” explained Bungdit Din.

“You do!?” Belcher asked in surprise.

“Of course,” replied Bungdit Din his smile getting wider by the second, “His Highness, The Khasi, will see you later, but, in the meantime I offer you the hospitality of my humble dwelling,” Din gestured to the line of simpering harem girls, “Woman!” 

Bungdit Din gestured to one of the harem girls. Pushing the girl who was about to step forward out of the way, Kali walked over to where Buffy stood and draped herself around the slayer's shoulders like a cheap jacket.

“Please go with the women,” Bungdit Din gestured to another doorway on the other side of the room, “Refresh yourselves,” there was a lot of eyebrow work going on as Din said this last, “Ask for anything you desire,” the mountain warrior winked suggestively, “deny yourselves...nothing.”

With this last phrase, Bungdit Din left the room.

“It must be a trap,” Captain Keene said as Buffy tried to fight off the advances of the harem girl who'd suddenly taken a shine to her.

“Let go!” Buffy hissed quietly as she tried to fight off the girl's wondering hands.

“Coooor!” exclaimed Belcher, “If it's a trap, lets walk into it.”

“Silence in the ranks!” MacNutt glared over to where Buffy continued struggling with the harem girl, he glanced at Captain Keene, “I could always scout ahead, sir,” he suggested hopefully.

“No thank-you Sergeant-Major,” Captain Keene drew back his shoulders, “we must stick together whatever we do...and that includes you Corporal Summers.”

“Yes Sir!” Buffy continued her fight with the busty girl, “Sorry Sir.”

“Follow me,” Keene led the way over to the door leading out of the room; opening the door he stepped through.

Standing in wonder for a moment, Captain Keene found himself in a large marble floored room containing a pool with a statue of a many armed goddess in the middle of it. On the walls were brightly painted murals depicting scenes from Indian mythology. Expensive looking cushions littered the floor around the edge of the pool. He would have noticed more but the rest of the party pushed him out of the way in their eagerness to get into the room.

“Well Sir?” MacNutt looked around the room searching for any possible traps and finding none.

“It looks all right to me,” admitted Keene.

“Just alright!?” cried Belcher happily, “This is fairy land!”

“Get off me!” Buffy cried still struggling with the girl; she realised there was something seriously wrong, she'd been using her slayer strength to try and get the girl to unhand her and somehow the girl had successfully resisted all of her attempts to free herself.

Unnoticed by Buffy, the rest of the harem girls filed into the room and took up positions around the pool.

“We await your pleasure, Masters,” sighed the chief harem girl.

“Pleasure!? The very idea,” Belcher said with no great conviction.

“What do we do Sir?” MacNutt asked as he eyed the harem girls lustfully.

“Men, we must remember we came here on a mission,” Captain Keene said as he looked the girls up and down. “to get that photograph.”

“Put me down!” Buffy cried as the busty harem girl dragged her off towards a great pile of cushions in a dark corner of the room, “You don't know where I've been!”

“Of course Sir,” MacNutt agreed ignoring Buffy's struggle with the girl.

“On the other hand,” Keene said slowly, “we don't want to rush into anything.”

“Oh no Sir,” again MacNutt agreed, “you're absolutely right sir.”

“So,” Keene continued in a calculating tone, “it might be wise to stay here for a bit...”

“Stay here for a bit?” Belcher cried trying to sound shocked, “Are you suggesting we remain here and indulge ourselves in...erm...whatever's going on?”

“Yes,” Keene replied with a firm nod of his head.

“Oh good, just checking...” Belcher said with a sigh of relief.

0=0=0=0

**The Khasi's Private Quarters.**

Walking into the Khasi's room, Bungdit Din found the Khasi resting on a settee while he listened to his daughter, the Princess Jelhi, play the sitar.

“Enough Jelhi,” the Khasi said as he noticed Bungdit Din's presence.

“The Chiefs have arrived and they are enjoying my hospitality,” Din informed the Khasi.

“Excellent,” smiled the Khasi, “after enjoying the hospitality of your house they should be easily persuaded.”

“You have the photograph?” Bungdit Din wanted to know.

“Not yet I fear,” the Khasi admitted, “Lady Ruff-Diamond has secreted it about her person in a place that cannot easily be got at.”

“We waste time,” anger flashed for a moment in Bungdit din's eyes, “Let us take it from her by force!”

“That would be unpardonable,” explained the Khasi, “in India the cow is sacred.”

0=0=0=0

**Keene-Force.**

Sitting astride the girl's stomach and holding on to her wrists, Kali easily controlled the white girl's struggles.

“Just you wait until I get free!” Buffy gasped as she fought against the busty girl who was sitting on top of her.

“Stop fighting me girl,” Kali snapped, “and tell me who you are.”

Kali was surprised by the girl's strength, if it wasn't for the fact that she was sitting on her, Kali felt sure that the white girl could fight her off; as far as she knew only one sort of human could do that.

“I'm not a girl!” Buffy said in a rather unconvincingly high voice.

“What are these then?” Kali put her hand on one of Buffy's breasts and squeezed gently, “Socks?”

“Okay, you've got me,” Buffy relaxed as all the fight seemed to go out of her, “I'm Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

“A Slayer?” Kali gasped, in her surprise she let up on holding Buffy down for a moment giving her a chance to fight back.

Grabbing hold of Kali with her now free hands, Buffy pushed and pulled and very soon the two girls had swapped positions.

“Okay,” Buffy whispered as she now lay between Kali's legs, “just who the hell are you and what are you, are you a demon or something?”

“A demon!?” Kali sniffed, “Pah! I am the goddess Kali; Kali the Terrible, Kali the Awful, goddess of sex, blood and extermination...”

“Gotta say girl, from where I'm lying you just look like a cute girl with really big...” Buffy nodded at Kali's breasts which were rising and falling alarmingly close to her nose.

“I don't normally look like this,” Kali admitted, “except for the boobs. Would you mind letting me up please?”

“Let you up?” Buffy frowned as she thought about this, “If I do, do you promise you won't attack me or anything?”

Buffy was inclined to let the goddess up, after all she had said 'please' and killer-monster-goddesses didn't usually say 'please'.

“I won't attack you,” Kali contrived to look as helpless and harmless as possible, however this would only last for as long as it took her to find out what a slayer was doing here, “promise.”

“Truce?” Buffy asked.

“Truce,” Kali agreed reluctantly.

“Okay,” cautiously Buffy dismounted the goddess.

Sitting amongst the pile of cushions the two young women regarded each other warily.

“Okay what's your story?” Buffy asked.

“The Khasi is one of my followers,” Kali started to explain, “he wants to rise up and drive the British from India, but I told him 'no'.”

“No?” Buffy frowned, “I'd have thought you'd want the British out of India.”

“I do,” Kali admitted, “but the British have Maxim guns, magazine rifles and breach loading artillery they would slaughter my followers.”

“But aren't you the goddess of like, death and blood and all that stuff?” Buffy asked.

“Yes,” Kali nodded, “but the deaths of my followers would be without meaning, a rising now would serve no purpose.”

“I see, at least I think I do,” Buffy studied the goddess closely, she seemed to be sincere, “Hey,” an idea had suddenly come to Buffy's mind, “this Khasi guy wouldn't have a pair of British underpants and a photograph?”

“A photograph!” cried Kali in shock, “I knew about the underpants, but what is this photograph?”

“It's a sort of picture,” Buffy explained, “made by focusing light on to chemically treated light sensitive paper...”

“I know what it is,” Kali rolled her eyes, “I mean, what is it of?”

Buffy quickly explained about the photograph of the underpants inspection parade.

“Ayeeee!” wailed Kali in despair, “This is terrible, if the mountain chieftains see it they will raise up and all my beautiful warriors will be killed by the British!”

“Look,” Buffy leant towards the goddess, “it looks like we both don't want anyone rising up against the British and loads of people getting killed, so why don't we work together?”

“Together?” Kali didn't look convinced.

“Just for now,” Buffy pointed out, “until we stop this Khasi guy.”

“Hmmm...” Kali thought about the idea for a moment; although she was a goddess, she didn't have all her goddessly powers with her at the moment so a little help might be useful...and this slayer girl seemed reasonable and cute and was quite sexy. “All right,” Kali agreed, “we'll work together.” Kali looked around to see the rest of the British party who were enjoying the 'hospitality' of the harem girls. “However,” Kali said slowly as she gazed into Buffy's eyes, “I think we need to rest before we put any plans into action.”

“Rest?” Buffy asked as she found herself staring into the deep, limpet, pools of the goddess' eyes.

“Yes rest,” Kali pushed Buffy gently down onto the cushions, “and maybe have a little fun? After all I am a goddess of sex.”

“Sex...?” moaned Buffy as she felt Kali's hands start to wander all over her body, “Sex...? Yes please...I'm not British!”

0=0=0=0

**The Khasi's Quarters.**

A servant burst into the Khasi's quarters as he and Bungdit Din sat listening to Princess Jelhi's sitar recital, he bowed low to Bungdit Din.

“What is it?” Bungdit Din demanded angry at being disturbed.

“The Chiefs are here,” cried the servant in fear.

“I know that you fool,” Din snarled angrily, “I've already seen them.”

“No!” persisted the servant, “These are other chiefs!”

“What other chiefs?” Bungdit Din asked as he started to realise that something was wrong here; after all the first set of chiefs had turned up suspiciously quickly.

“Then who are the ones already here?” the Khasi wanted to know.

“Call the guards!” Bungdit Din sprang to his feet and started to head for the door followed by the servant, “Call the guards!!”

Bursting out into a lobby, Bungdit Din found a dozen or so hill chiefs standing around waiting for him.

“Salaam!” Bungdit Din bowed to the chiefs, “I will be with you shortly.”

Followed by a gaggle of his household guards, Bungdit Din burst through the door leading to the room where the men he thought were the hill chiefs were enjoying the company of some of his harem girls.

“Seize them!” Bungdit Din cried as he pointed at the interlopers, “Seize them!”

0=0=0=0


	8. Chapter 8

8.

_You're a better man than I am Bungdit Din._

**The Khasi's Quarters, Bungdit Din's Palace, Jaksi.**

The Khasi stood on his balcony as he looked down on the tribesmen dancing in the market place below.

“What are they celebrating my Father?” Princess Jelhi asked from inside the Khasi's quarters.

“The British prisoners, my child, are to be executed at sunset,” the Khasi explained as he turned and walked back into his quarters, he took Jelhi by the arm and led her further into the room.

“No, father, spare them!” Jelhi cried; she'd heard that four British spies had been captured and that amongst them was the 'pretty' Captain Keene.

“Impossible, my child,” the Khasi replied his eyes losing focus as he imagined the great uprising that would sweep the British from Khalabar. “Their deaths will help to show these Burpa fools that the British are not invincible.”

“The white memsahib too?” Jelhi asked referring to Lady Ruff-Diamond.

“Of course,” the Khasi smiled at his daughter, “But do not worry, we'll make it 'easy' for them,” the Khasi smiled evilly, “they will die the Death of a Thousand Cuts! MAW-HA-HA!”

“Oh no!” Princess Jelhi gasped close to tears, “That's horrible...”

“Nonsense child,” the Khasi smiled indulgently at his daughter, “the British are used to cuts!”

0=0=0=0

**A Dungeon in Bungdit Din's Palace, Jaksi.**

Standing at the barred window, the four British prisoners stared out at the dancing tribesmen in the market place.

“Charming,” muttered Belcher, “join the army and see the next world!” he turned and pointed an accusing finger at Buffy, “This is all your fault!”

“What!?” squeaked Buffy her voice going extra high, “It's _so_ not my fault! What did I do?”

“Well, Corporal Summers,” Sergeant-Major MacNutt said, “you were taking more notice of that harem girl than...”

“Now you hold on there...Sergeant-Major,” Buffy felt like telling everyone she was a girl, she was fed up of being blamed for things that weren't her fault, “I seem to remember that the rest of you were totally 'taking more notice' of those harem girls than I was!”

All this talk of harem girls was making Buffy wonder where that Kali girl had gone to; one moment she was there while the next, she wasn't.

“Now, now now, steady on chaps,” Captain Keene held up a placating hand, “Try and keep calm, we've been in tighter spots than this.”

“When?” Buffy asked, “Tell me three instances when we've been in 'tighter spots'?”

“Erm...” Captain Keene hesitated.

“Here we go,” Belcher muttered angrily, “he's going to tell us to keep a stiff upper lip.”

“How do you keep an upper lip stiff?” Buffy wished she'd asked Giles about this sort of thing when she'd had the chance.

“I was about to say,” Keene sighed heavily at all the interruptions, “remember we're British...”

“I'm American,” Buffy pointed out unhelpfully.

“...then I was going to tell you to keep a stiff upper lip,” Captain Keene continued, barely holding on to his temper.

“Bleedin' colonials,” Belcher grumbled as he headed for the cell door, “I'm not waiting here for my lip to stiffen,” he pounded on the cell door trying to attract the guard's attention, “Guard! Guard! I'm a non-combatant! I demand to see the British Ambassador!”

0=0=0=0

**The Khasi's Quarters.**

“The feast in honour of the chiefs is ready,” Bungdit Din announced as he strode into the room and addressed the Khasi.

“Good,” smiled the Khasi, “I will go now,” he started to head for the door only to be called back by Bungdit Din.

“You have the photograph?” Din asked sharply.

“No!” The Khasi stopped and turned towards Din, “I better see if I can get it.”

Walking swiftly back across the room the Khasi opened the door to the room where he was keeping Lady Ruff-Diamond prisoner. Taking a deep breath he entered her Ladyship's room.

“OOOH! There you are!” cried Lady Ruff-Diamond, her voice high enough to shatter crystal, “I thought you'd forgotten me.”

Her Ladyship was lying on a bed dressed in a sari made of gold coloured silk with fine golden treads woven into the fabric. Wincing at the volume of Her Ladyship's welcome, the Khasi advanced on his 'prisoner'.

“Impossible my dear lady,” the Khasi took one of Her Ladyships hands and bowed over it.

“You've not mentioned the dress...” Lady Ruff-Diamond began.

“Sari,” the Khasi corrected her.

“Oh, there's no need to apologies...” Lady Ruff-Diamond giggled, “...there's a nice little fringe...”

“No, no, the garment is called a sari.”

“OH!” Lady Ruff-Diamond laughed causing the Khasi to wince again, “Oh! The sari with the fringe on top! Silly me.”

“It looks very nice on you madam,” the Khasi said insincerely, “but there seems to be something making an ugly bulge.”

“I can't help the way I'm built,” sulked Her Ladyship.

“No, no,” the Khasi reassured her, “I don't think its part of you...Ah! I have it!” the Khasi started to move his hand towards the photograph that he'd seen sticking out from the top of Lady Ruff-Diamond's sari, “It is the photograph, allow me to relieve you of it.”

The Khasi made a grab for the photograph only to have his arm intercepted and held in Her Ladyship's vice like grip.

“Now, now, Randy,” Lady Ruff-Diamond laughed, “remember our bargain...I will give it to you when _you_...”

“Yes, I know the rest,” the Khasi admitted despondently. “I'll tell you what...”

“What?”

“I'll give it to you at sunset,” the Khasi smiled.

“You will?” gasped Lady Ruff-Diamond, “How romantic.”

“Indeed,” the Khasi backed away from Lady Ruff-Diamond, “until then...”

“I can hardly wait,” Lady Ruff-Diamond cried enthusiastically as she watched the Khasi retreat through the door.

“Well,” demanded Bungdit Din once the Khasi had closed the door behind him, “do you have it?”

“No, but don't worry,” sneered the Khasi, “it will be easy after the execution.” The Khasi headed for the door with Bungdit Din following close behind him, “Oh and only five-hundred cuts for Her Ladyship, I don't want the photograph ruined!”

0=0=0=0

Listening from out on the balcony, Princess Jelhi realised that her father intended to have the British Memsahib killed as well as her 'pretty' Captain Keene. Walking rapidly across the room, Jelhi quickly came up with a plan, if she could convince the British Memsahib that her father only wished her ill they might be able to save her one true love.

“My Lady you must leave this place at once,” Jelhi explained hurriedly as she approached the bed where Lady Ruff-Diamond lay.

“Are you kidding dear?” Lady Ruff-Diamond gushed, “I wouldn't miss tonight for anything.”

“My father has explained what is to happen to you?” Princess Jelhi asked slightly puzzled by Lady Ruff-Diamond's reaction.

“Not half,” Lady Ruff-Diamond giggled girlishly, “at sunset.”

“And you're not frightened?” Jelhi frowned.

“Oh, well,” Her Ladyship shrugged, “It's not as if it'll be the first time!”

“But...” Princess Jelhi began to explain what was truly going to happen at sunset when she was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a large breasted dancing girl.

“Shut up!” cried the dancing girl as she stormed into the room, “You!” Kali pointed at Lady Ruff-Diamond, “At sunset the Khasi intends to have you executed so he can get his hot, greedy hands on that stupid photograph of yours.”

“WHAT!?” Screeched Her Ladyship as the scales fell from her eyes!

“And you!” Kali rounded on Princess Jelhi, “If you don't stop faffing about like a silly schoolgirl the man you love and the girl I love will be horribly, horribly executed.”

“Girl?” Lady Ruff-Diamond and Princess Jelhi chorused.

“It's a long story,” Kali sighed, “I'll explain it all later, but first we must find some disguises and help everyone escape!”

0=0=0=0

Ten minutes later the three women had not only found disguises to help everyone escape, but they'd also found their way down to the dungeon levels where Buffy and her friends where being held.

“Who's there?” demanded the guard as he rested against the door that led to where Buffy and the other's were being held prisoner.

“It is I, the Princess Jelhi,” Jelhi informed the guard in her haughtiest of voices, “My father commands that the white woman,” she gestured to Lady Ruff-Diamond who was standing as if she was being restrained by Kali, “be put in the cell with the other British prisoners...”

“I'm American!” came Buffy's voice faintly from the other side of the cell door.

Shrugging the guard put down his rifle and took the bunch of keys from his belt. Before he could put the key in the lock, Kali stepped forward and broke his neck with a swift chop of her hand.

“Imshi, imshi!” Kali nodded at the door as she dragged the dead guard out of the way.

Stooping to pick up the keys from the floor, Princess Jelhi inserted a key into the cell's lock and quickly had the door unlocked. The three women burst into the cell.

“Princess Jelhi!” cried Captain Keene happily on seeing the princess, “I thought I'd never see you again!”

“Buffy!” Kali swept across the floor, grabbed Buffy by her shoulders and clutched her to her magnificent bosom.

“Hmmm!” Buffy cried in surprise from the depths of Kali's cleavage.

“I see no one's pleased to see me,” Lady Ruff-Diamond sulked.

“Now you know how I feel when people slam their doors in my face,” Belcher grumbled.

“Of course we're pleased to see you, Lady Ruff-Diamond,” Captain Keene tore his eyes away from Princess Jelhi for a moment.

“Corporal Summers,” Sergeant-Major MacNutt said warningly, “Unhand that dancing girl immediately, remember where you are!”

“Hmmmph Hmmm!” cried Buffy struggling to free herself and breath again, finally she escaped from Kali's grasp and turned to look at MacNutt, “Sorry Sergeant-Major.”

“Have you still got the photograph?” Captain Keene asked.

“Yes,” Lady Ruff-Diamond patted the picture hidden under her sari, “worst luck,” her Ladyship turned to Kali, “I thought you said there was no time to lose.”

“Indeed there is not!” Kali admitted as she reluctantly let go of Buffy, “Princess, the disguises.”

“Yes we must hurry,” Jelhi agreed as she started to hand out clothes from the bundle in her arms, “change into these immediately,” she said as she handed out the costumes, “we must leave before the feast finishes.”

“Is this the best you could do?” Captain Keene asked as he held the dancing girl outfit up in front of him.

“It is the safest,” Jelhi explained as she started to put on her own disguise, “It is the costume of the Nooki Dancers, the guards will not interfere with you...”

“They'll get a nasty surprise if they do,” MacNutt pointed out as he struggled into his costume.

Shrugging, Captain Keene took off his hillman disguise and started to put on his dancing girl disguise, as he did so he happened to look over to where Buffy was changing.

“I say Sergeant-Major,” Keene whispered urgently, “I do believe Corporal Summers _is_ a girl!”

“What, Sir?” MacNutt paused in his changing and turned to look where his officer was pointing, “No, no, no Sir,” MacNutt smiled and shook his head, “you must be mistaken, Sir.”

“But look!” Keene hissed as he pointed, “I always knew there was something odd about Corporal Summers.”

“No Sir,” MacNutt tried to reassure his officer that Buffy wasn't a girl, “It must be all those amateur dramatics, Sir.”

“But look!” Keene almost cried out, but managed to keep his voice down, Buffy was surreptitiously tucking her breasts into the top of her outfit and Keene could plainly see they weren't rolled up socks.

“Look Sir,” MacNutt replied calmly, “Corporal Summers is not a woman, granted he's a little 'odd' and anyway, if he was a woman it would be rude to stare while she's changing...I thought they taught you things like that at Sandhurst.”

“Yes,” Keene got a grip of himself and looked away from where Buffy was putting the final touches to her disguise, “of course, Sergeant-Major, you're right, I should pull myself together...” he looked apologetically at MacNutt, “...its the strain, you know...and the heat.”

“Of course it is, Sir,” MacNutt was now dressed as the biggest dancing girl ever, “...we'll say no more about it.”

“Everyone ready?” Princess Jelhi called softly, there were answering rumblings of assent, “Then follow me, and whatever you do keep your veils up and your eyes down!”

“Eyes down for a full house,” sniggered Belcher as he follow the Princess out the cell door.

0=0=0=0

Coming up from the dungeons, Princess Jelhi led her dance troupe along a corridor until they came to a large lobby. Two armed guards stood by a closed door, they bowed their heads politely to the dancers as they made their way across the lobby towards an unguarded door. The dancers were halted in their tracks my a shout from behind them, turning they were greeted by the sight of Bungdit Din who was now standing in front of an opened door and between the two guards.

“YOU!” Cried Bungdit Din as he pointed at the dancers, “Come! You have kept our guests waiting long enough. Hurry!” he snapped his fingers, “The Dance! The Dance!”

Turning on his heel, Din disappeared into the room behind him.

“What do we do know?” Captain Keene asked from behind his veil

“Buffy and I kill them all!” Kali suggested bloodthirstily.

“No!” Jelhi might now realise that her father was an Evil Overlord, but he was her father and she still loved him, she didn't want him dead unless it couldn't be avoided. “Do as I do...it is our only chance.”

“I still say we should kill them all,” Kali pointed out as she and the others followed Jelhi towards the room where the feast was being held.

“You're a bit bloodthirsty for a dancing girl,” MacNutt observed as he looked down at Kali's cleavage.

“You don't know the half of it, Sergeant-Major,” Buffy sighed.

A small native band struck up a tune as the dancers entered the room, the four women had positioned themselves between the three men so at to hopefully prevent the fact almost half the dancers weren't women. Unfortunately the fact that all but two of the dancers knew how to actually dance didn't help. It wasn't long before Reverend Belcher tripped over Buffy and fell to the floor, as he did so his veil fell from his face and it was obvious to all that he wasn't a female dancer but was in fact one of the British spies!

“SEIZE THEM!” cried the Khasi as he stood up and pointed.

“AYEEEEEE!” cried Kali as she buried her fist in the face of the closest guard.

Seeing there was no alternative, Buffy sprang into action felling two guards with a single kick. The room quickly descended into chaos as slayer, goddess, princess, soldiers, reverend and one Ladyship set about the palace guards. Harem girls screamed as more guards rushed into the room their swords drawn. Goddess and Slayer stood side by side as they fought to cover the retreat of the rest of the British force. Guards were hurled through windows while others were simply dispatched by small fists as they ruptured internal organs.

“THIS WAY!” Princess Jelhi yelled as she pointed to an unguarded door, “Imshi!”

0=0=0=0

Imshi: Quickly/Hurry/Move IT! 


	9. Chapter 9

9.

_When first under fire an' you're wishful to duck,  
Don't look nor take 'eed at the man that is struck,  
Be thankful you're livin', and trust to your luck  
And march to your front like a soldier._

'The young British soldier'; R Kipling.

**Bungdit Din's Palace, Jaksi.**

One of the guards tried to thrust his jezail into Buffy's face, however, she managed to bat it away just as the man pulled the trigger. Momentarily blinded by the flash and deafened by the bang of the weapon going off, Buffy still had the presence of mind to yank on the barrel and pull the jezail from the guard's hand. Taking hold of the musket in both of her hands, Buffy used the butt to hit the guard in the face. Spitting blood and teeth the guard fell to the floor unconscious. Still holding the jezail by the barrel, Buffy looked through the powder smoke to see that Kali had somehow acquired a long, curved sword which she was using most effectively to slice up any guards that got too close to her.

Screaming a guard felt to Kali's sword, blood pouring from the vicious wound in his head as he slumped to his knees. Pulling back on her blade to free it from the guard's head, Kali thrust the sword through the man's chest killing him instantly. Momentarily free of any assailants the two young woman looked at each other and grinned.

“Isn't this fun?” laughed Kali sword in hand.

“I wouldn't have called it fun, but...” Buffy stopped speaking in mid sentence, she'd noticed movement a few yards down the corridor, “...DOWN!”

Grabbing hold of Kali, Buffy pulled her to the floor as a volley of shots passed harmlessly over their heads. Discovering that it was death to approach the two young women, Bungdit Din's guards had formed up in the corridor and fired their muskets down the smoke filled corridor in the hopes of hitting the women who were causing them so much trouble. Musket balls fluttered through the air above the girl's heads or smashed into the walls sending plaster flying in all directions.

“Time to leave!” Buffy cried as she discarded her useless jezail and tried to drag a protesting Kali down the corridor and away from the guards.

“NO!” Kali cried as she fought to resist Buffy's efforts to pull her away, “I can slaughter them all before they reload,” the goddess assured the slayer, “there's only a dozen of them!”

“Enough with the slaughtering!” Buffy cried as she dragged the still protesting Kali away from the guards.

The thick, evil smelling, powder smoke trapped in the corridor gave the two young women enough cover to complete their escape. Stumbling down the corridor they eventually burst out into the bright daylight at the far end. Coughing and stumbling onto a pathway, Buffy turned and wiped the tears from her eyes just in time to see Sergeant-Major MacNutt close and bar a heavy wooden door thus sealing up the corridor.

“That'll hold 'em for a while,” MacNutt said as he checked that the bar holding the door closed was firmly in place, he looked down at Buffy, “Are you alright Corporal Summers?”

“Yeah I'm fine,” Buffy replied as she and Kali helped each other to their feet.

“Dashed brave of you holding them off like that, Corporal,” Captain Keene called, “but it'll be all for nothing if we can't get out of here.”

Looking around Buffy saw that they were trapped in a small garden surrounded by a high wall; the only door appeared to be the one they'd just come through.

“Don't worry,” called Belcher as he searched frantically for a means of escape, “things could be worse...”

Sure enough and true to Belcher's words, things took the opportunity to get worse as musket balls punched their way through the door and buried themselves in the wall opposite.

“Stone the bleedin' crows,” Lady Ruff-Diamond muttered as she gave Belcher a dirty look, “there's always one ain't there?”

“Where are we?” Keene turned to look at Princess Jelhi.

“This is the garden, where the women of the harem take their exercise,” the princess explained, “there is only one way in or out.”

“Trapped like rats in a barrel!” Captain Keene said as more musket balls blew splitters from the door and chunks of stone work from the wall.

“Well, Sir we better find a way out,” Sergeant-Major MacNutt called from over by the door, “eventually they'll think of getting a battering ram and smashing down the door.”

Looking around the garden, Buffy saw no handy garden benches that could be piled against the wall to form a rough ladder. Neither were there any conveniently planted trees that could be climbed where they hung over the wall to form a readily accessible means of escape. Eyeing the wall, Buffy saw that while it was high it wasn't _that_ high, nor did it have any spikes, barbed wire or broken glass along the top, Buffy turned to Kali.

“How high can you jump?” Buffy asked in a whisper.

“What?” Kali looked at the blonde girl as if she'd been touched by the sun.

“Come on,” Buffy dragged Kali by the arm over to the wall, she pointed to the top of the wall, “can you jump up there?”

“Yes,” Kali shrugged, she was quite willing to stay in the garden and slaughter the guards when they broke in, “but why should I want to?”

“Look,” Buffy replied earnestly, “we've got to get these people out of here before the guards break in...”

“Ah, of course,” Kali interrupted Buffy in mid-sentence, “you are 'The Slayer', you will always try to save the mortals.”

“Yeah right,” Buffy gave the goddess a curt nod, “can you jump up there?”

“Yes,” nodded Kali beginning to see what Buffy wanted, “you want me to catch these people as you help them up, yes?”

“Yes,” Buffy nodded before turning to Captain Keene, “SIR!” she called over the noise of more musket shots, “Kali and myself have got an idea...”

0=0=0=0

**Outside Bungdit Din's Palace, Jaksi.**

“Most odd,” Captain Keene muttered as the party made their way through the narrow fetid streets of Jaksi.

“What's that, Sir?” MacNutt asked from just behind him; like good senior British soldiers they led the way, while 'Corporal' Summers brought up the rear with Kali. In between them were Her Ladyship, Princess Jelhi and Reverend Belcher.

“That Kali girl, Sergeant-Major,” Captain Keene stopped the party at a junction so he could check the way was clear.

“What about her, Sir?” MacNutt asked.

“Well, it seems to me that she's stronger than the average dancing gal,” Keene voiced his concerns

“I wouldn't worry about it, Sir” MacNutt shrugged, “I expect its all the practice she does for the dancing.”

It was 'odd', MacNutt told himself, the way the dancing girl had been able to pull everyone over the wall after Summers had boasted them up to her. However, they were free now and they'd soon be out of this accused town and on their way to the border and home.

“Come on everyone,” Captain Keene called from the front, “the way's clear, we'll soon be home.”

0=0=0=0

**The Road to Khalabar.**

“You're a goddess, right?” Buffy asked as she walked along the dusty track towards the border and Khalabar.

“This is so,” Kali agreed with a smile, the two young women where still dressed as dancing girls, as was everyone else.

“Right, so if that's so...” Buffy began only to be interrupted by the goddess at her side.

“Which it is,” Kali reaffirmed.

“...then do you think its right how women are treated?”

“What do you mean?” Kali frowned, “Women are treated as they have always been treated, that is the way of things. What other way is there?”

“There's a better way,” Buffy looked at Kali to see her truly puzzled, “I'll try and explain...that garden we were in...”

“A very nice garden,” Kali nodded, “if you discount all the bullets flying around.”

“Yes it was nice,” Buffy persisted, “but it was little better than an exercise yard in a prison...and all those harem girls having to do...” for a moment Buffy's upbringing made her hesitate, “...do...you know...stuff...”

“You mean the sex,” Kali put in when she saw Buffy having difficulty saying what she wanted to say, “but what else should women like that do?”

“Doesn't it make you angry?” Buffy asked, “You're a goddess couldn't you make things better?”

“Look, Buffy the Slayer,” Kali sighed, “I am basically the goddess of sex and death...mainly death, what do you want me to do? Anyway while I'm in human form I don't have many of my powers.” The goddess shrugged, “I think its designed like that to stop gods and goddesses wandering around the mortal world and interfering...there is such a thing a free will you know?”

“But...” Buffy knew that what she saw around herself was 'wrong' but she didn't know how to change it, “...but there has to be something better than this. Y'know women can't even vote?”

“Why would they want to?” Kali asked.

“Look,” Buffy continued earnestly, “where I come from women vote, hold public office, they're doctors and scientists and astronauts and...and...!”

“So, it is true,” Kali looked at Buffy sharply.

“What is?” Buffy replied thinking she'd given too much away about herself.

“You are from the future, I had thought you might be.”

“Yeah,” Buffy replied after a moments thought, she didn't think there was any point denying it, “can you see into the future?”

“Yes,” Kali nodded, “but not clearly and the further I try to look the less clear it is.” The goddess paused for a moment, “Look I can see far enough into the future to know that we'll get back to Khalabar and you'll survive this little adventure, but...”

“But?”

“But after that,” Kali sighed heavily, “it becomes like trying to see through a thick, mountain mist; there are only vague shapes and ideas of things.”

Now she actually bothered to look at the future, Kali could indeed see vague ideas of a time when the place of women was something more than being a servant to men. For some reason the idea made her slightly dissatisfied.

“Anyway,” Kali spoke again after clearing her mind of these troubling signs from the future, “you haven't done too badly in the here and now...you are a soldier of some importance.”

“Not through choice,” Buffy pointed out, “I was sort of dumped into the role and what else could I be?”

“Indeed,” Kali agreed slowly, “What else?”

The goddess could feel the dissatisfaction rolling off the slayer like waves rolling in from the sea. It appeared obvious to Kali that the slayer was a very determined young woman who would no doubt try to change things if she ever got away from the frontier.

“I think there's this woman in England,” Buffy explained, “Pankhurst or something she leads the Suffragettes.”

“Suffragettes?”

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded her head vigorously, “Votes for Women and all that cool stuff...” Buffy took a deep breath, “...I think I'm going to tell everyone that I'm a woman then go to England and help this Pankhurst woman fight for women's rights!”

“Indeed,” Kali replied slowly.

As they walked on together, Buffy explained to Kali what she was going to do, how she was going to change the world and as Kali listened she found herself getting more and more caught up in Buffy's dreams. After all, Kali asked herself, what did she do? People had been having sex and killing each other quite successfully without much encouragement from her for ages. Did people really need a god or goddess to tell them to do what came naturally? It was just about then that Kali realised that she'd become superfluous and that no one really needed her. This present little shambles that she was caught up in was a case in point.

Having told the Khasi not to raise the tribes against the British what had he done? He'd ignored her and carried on exactly how he'd wanted to before he'd even mentioned the idea of throwing the British out of Khalabar to her; and were the British really that bad? They built roads and railways, they opened schools, hospitals and universities. They'd stopped that unpleasant business of burning widows on their husband's funeral pyres. The peasants didn't really care who they were ruled by and at least under the British the taxes were fair and no Rajah could have a village burnt down on a whim without there being serious consequences. The ruling classes were quite happy with the British, because they were paid to stay happy and not interfere. In fact things might be very much worse if the British left, the Muslims would kill the Hindus and the Hindus would kill the Muslims right back, in fact everyone would be fighting everyone else if it wasn't for the British.

Without the British to hate, the country would collapse into chaos, or so it seemed to Kali. Of course this didn't mean that Kali didn't want to see her country free of the British at some time. But not right now. Kali felt that some time in the near future, she could almost see the day if she looked into the future really hard, India would be able to stand on her own feet and become a strong nation in her own right. But then, what of her? The goddess of sex and mainly death, would the people still want her then? Kali felt sure the answer would be no, so what should she do?

Looking at Buffy, who was still talking excitedly about what she was going to do when she got to England, Kali smiled. The little blonde slayer was pretty (cute as Buffy herself might put it) and the few moments they'd spent together had been fun and promised much for the future. After all she was the goddess of sex and if a sex goddess couldn't deal with Buffy's sexual hang-ups then she was wise to hang up her sex goddessing hat.

“Buffy,” Kali spoke bringing Buffy's monologue on women's rights to a perfunctory halt.

“Hmm?” Buffy turned to look at Kali.

“Would you mind if I came with you to England?” Kali asked, “I'd like to help with these votes for women and maybe I could do a little something towards Indian Independence.”

“That'd be great!” Buffy beamed as she wrapped her arms around Kali's neck and hugged her tightly.

“Oi!” Sergeant-Major MacNutt's voice came through the crisp, clear mountain air to the two women, “You can do that sort of thing later after we get home, but we're coming up on the border so I want you to keep a sharp look out for Burpas.”

“Right you are, Sergeant-Major,” Buffy called as they walked around the bend in the track.

Looking down the long slope towards the border post, Buffy's sharp slayer eyes could pick out the little border station, the opened gate and the bodies of the dead British soldiers who lay around the blockhouse and gate.

“By Gad!” exclaimed Captain Keene in shock, “the Khasi must have had a force just waiting to attack the border post.”

“You think, Sir?” Sergeant-Major MacNutt gasped.

“I also think,” Keene explained further, “that there's another force not far behind us ready to attack Khalabar itself!”

0=0=0=0


	10. Chapter 10

10.

_When I was young I used to be  
As fine a man as ever you'd see  
Til the Prince of Wales he said to me:  
"Come and join the British army"_

_Toora loora loora loo  
They're looking for monkeys up at the zoo  
And if I had a face like you  
I'd join the British army._

'The British Army'; Traditional.

**A Desolate Border Station.**

Surrounded by the bodies of nearly twenty slain Inverlockty Highlanders, the little party of British refugees looked on in silent shock.

“Oh how awful,” cried Lady Ruff-Diamond, “what can have happened?”

Exchanging glances Buffy and Kali rolled their eyes, they had a pretty good idea of what had happened. Obviously some Burpas must have cut across the mountains (while they were taking the longer route along the road) and attacked the British post from behind.

“I usually don't like making wild guesses,” announced Captain Keene, “but I wouldn't be at all surprised if there hadn't been a spot of foul play here.”

“Foul play!?” Reverend Belcher repeated back to the captain, “Look at them...lying around like a bunch of unwanted cocktail snacks!”

Buffy had to admit that Belcher was right, several of the soldiers had spears in their backs making them look a little like abandoned cocktail sausages.

“Look,” Captain Keene called getting everyone's attention, “we'd better get organised,” he looked down at the dancing girl outfit he was still waiting, “Sergeant-Major, we'd better find some uniforms to wear...”

“Like, ones without too much blood on them?” Buffy asked hopefully.

“Come on Corporal Summers, a little blood never hurt anyone,” MacNutt observed.

“You speak for yourself,” Buffy muttered under her breath before turning and starting her search for a uniform to wear.

“When are you going to tell them you're a girl?” Kali asked quietly as she helped Buffy look for some blood free clothing.

“Soon,” Buffy whispered, “when we get back to Khalabar...”

0=0=0=0

**Another Part of the Pass.**

Two groups of Burpa tribesmen met on the track to Khalabar, one group had just come from destroying the British border post and was led by Bungdit Din. The other group was led by The Khasi and was heading towards Khalabar to destroy the British garrison there.

“The entire garrison at the Pass has been wiped out, mighty Khasi,” announced Bungdit Din with a deep bow.

“Well done my most beautiful warrior!” gushed the Khasi.

Standing on a rock by the road side, so everyone could see him, The Khasi pulled the damning photograph of the Highlanders with their underwear on display from inside his tunic. The Khasi had had the photo taken from Lady Ruff-Diamond while she slept and had had a replacement photograph left in her bosom so she'd not know the original had been taken until it was too late.

“You see now,” The Khasi held the damning photographic reproduction above his head for all to see, “the photograph does not lie?” There were mutterings of agreement from the eager tribesmen, “The Devils in Skirts are not invincible...we have caught them with their underpants up!” 

A great roar of approval issued forth from the throats of the Burpas.

“ATTACK!” Cried Bungdit Din as he flourished his razor sharp tulwar above his head.

Like a great landslide of heavily armed landslidy things the Burpas followed their leaders down the path towards Khalabar and glory.

0=0=0=0

**Meanwhile, back at the Pass.**

Standing in the block house which overlooked the 'Gateway to India', Captain Keene, Sergeant-Major MacNutt and Buffy changed into some almost blood free uniforms. It was just as Buffy was taking off her dancing girl top and before she'd had time to put on her khaki tunic that Captain Keene pointed at her and cried out in shock.

“THERE!” Captain Keene pointed at Buffy's breasts as they popped out from behind her disguise, “I told you Corporal Summers was a gal!”

“Sir,” sighed MacNutt as he buckled up his salvaged kilt, “Corporal Summers might be a bit effeminate but he's not a girl.”

“Look, Sergeant-Major,” Keene gestured towards the damning bosoms, “what do you think those are? More rolled up socks?”

“My god!” MacNutt gasped as he finally saw Buffy for what she truly was, “I always said he made a damned convincing dancing girl and now I know why,” he took a deep breath, “Summers, explain yourself.”

“Its not my fault,” Buffy tried to explain as she grabbed a tunic and held it up in front of her chest, “I just woke up and there I was in the barracks and everyone was acting like I was one of the guys so...”

“Well of course no one would mention that they'd noticed you weren't a chap,” Captain Keene, “I expect the men were all too polite to say anything...”

“My god Sir!” MacNutt turned urgently to his officer, “What do we do now? Our fighting strength has been cut by a third!”

“That's dashed unfortunate,” Keene appeared to have dismissed Buffy's 'girlism' while he considered the military ramifications of her apparent sex-change.

“I can still fight,” Buffy pointed out not wanting to let anyone down.

“No you can't,” Keene snapped back, “you're a gal.”

“I might have the body of a girl,” Buffy snapped back, “but I have the heart and soul of a slayer...”

“A what?” Keene and MacNutt chorused.

“Whatever,” Buffy dismissed their doubts with a wave of her hand, “to the barricades!” she called, “They totally don't like it up 'em and like once more into the breach, much!”

“Eh?” Keene gave Buffy a puzzled look.

“Not only can I fight but Kali...”

“Who?”

“...the girl with the big knockers,” Buffy mimed large breasts...or possibly someone with arthritic hands. 

“Oh, Busti.”

“Yeah, her,” Buffy paused as she tried to remember what she'd been saying, “Oh yeah, I can still fight and so can Kali, so your combat strength has actually gone up by a half!”

“Well of course this Kali girl can fight,” Keene pointed out, “she's a native and its sort of expected, but you're a white woman Miss Summers and you're only supposed to bandage the wounded and pass out ammunition.”

“Praising the Lord is optional,” MacNutt explained, “unless you're American.”

“Look,” Buffy was across the blockhouse in the blink of an eye; she took hold of Captain Keene's tunic and lifted him off his feet with one hand, “I'm fighting, live with it, okay?”

“I say, Miss Summers...” Captain Keene squeaked nervously, strong women had always scared him ever since his nanny had...well, the least said about what his nanny had done the better.

“That's _Corporal_ Summers to you,” Buffy reminded him.

“Alright,” Keene batted ineffectually at Buffy's hand but couldn't get her to let him go, “I dare say this could all be sorted out once we're back in Khalabar.”

“Sir!” MacNutt gasped, “You don't mean to say that you're going to allow this?”

“I don't really have much choice, Sergeant-Major,” Keene indicated the small woman who was at present holding him off the floor.

“Knew you'd see it my way,” Buffy smiled as she put the officer down, she pulled herself to attention (forgetting that she'd been holding the tunic to her chest) and screamed as the tunic slipped and her breasts were exposed to public gaze.

“Corporal Summers!” Sergeant-Major MacNutt cried as he quickly averted his eyes, “Get properly dressed and stop making an exhibition of yourself!”

0=0=0=0

Now dressed in slightly bloody tunics over their dancing girl outfits the women of the party stood outside the blockhouse wondering what all the shouting was about. Down at The Gateway to India, Kali rested her elbows on the gate as she looked up the track through a pair of binoculars. Through the lenses she saw hordes of armed Burpas making their way down the pass towards them.

“Ayeeeee!” Kali cried as she lowered the glasses and started to run towards the blockhouse, “BUFFY!”

“What is it?” Captain Keened demanded as he, MacNutt and Buffy burst from the blockhouse.

“They're coming down the Pass! Thousands of 'em!” Kali cried.

“Thousands of 'em?” Keene repeated back to the young woman, “No that can't be right, a few hundred surely.”

“If you don't believe me,” Kali handed the officer the binoculars, “take a look for yourself.”

“Oh, my!” Captain Keene gasped as he put the glasses to his eyes and studied the track way; sure enough what looked like thousands of Burpas were making their way down the track towards them. “Right!” Keene straightened his borrowed uniform, “Sergeant-Major you take the party on to Khalabar while I stay here and try to slow them down!”

“No!” Princess Jelhi cried tearfully as she clung on to Keene's arm, “You'll be killed!”

“She's right Sir,” MacNutt cried, “being hacked to death by thousands of angry Burpa tribesman is no job for an officer.”

“It isn't?” Keene frowned, he was sure he'd read something about sacrificing yourself by being hacked to death by the natives while he'd been at Sandhurst.

“No Sir,” MacNutt straightened to attention, “you get the ladies clear Sir and Corporal Summers and I will hold the pass.”

“We will?” Buffy asked uncertainly, there did seem to be an awful lot of Burpas.

“And I will stay too,” Kali announced, “to fight beside my beloved Buffy!”

Buffy blushed pinkly while Keene and MacNutt looked on with confused expressions.

“How romantic...” sighed Lady Ruff-Diamond.

“Very well Sergeant-Major,” realising that his own untimely death would have to be postponed for a while, Keene gave into peer pressure, “you realise this means certain death.”

“We laugh at death!” Kali laughed as she waved the sword she'd been carrying since their escape from Jaksi above her head.

“...and then we run away and hide,” Buffy muttered remembering something Xander had said many years before.

“Good luck, Sergeant-Major,” Keene said as his upper lip stiffened.

“And you Sir,” MacNutt replied.

“Come on Mr Belcher,” Keene turned to the preacher, “we'd better get the ladies away from here.”

0=0=0=0

“Right, you lot!” Sergeant-Major turned to survey his troops, “Let's get this place into a state of defence!”

The Burpas were closer now and the occasional stray bullet buzzed through the air as the defenders moved between the dead bodies of the previous garrison.

“Sergeant-Major!” Buffy cried out as she opened a crate that was supposed to contain spare rifles, “all the guns have been taken!”

“Who needs guns?” Kali brandished her sword and grinned a bloodthirsty grin.

“Its alright for some,” Buffy whispered, “but not all of us are immortal.”

0=0=0=0

Pulling Bungdit Din to the side of the track The Khasi pointed down hill.

“There's someone moving about down at the Pass,” he cried over the jubilant yells of the advancing tribesman. “Do you think those fools will try to make a fight of it?”

“They will have difficulty,” laughed Bungdit Din, “we took all the arms and ammunition.”

“Excellent,” smiled The Khasi, his face flushed with excitement, “On with the attack!”

0=0=0=0

“Never mind,” Sergeant-Major MacNutt called, “we still have the Maxim Gun and the Mountain Gun.

Leading Buffy over to the Maxim Gun, MacNutt knelt down behind it and looked over the top of the weapon at the advancing Burpas.

“Come on if you think you're hard enough!” Kali shook her fist at the screaming tribesmen.

“Right Corporal,” MacNutt settled himself behind the machine gun and took aim at the Burpas, “we've got a case of 'science versus pluck' and science will win every time!”

“Erm, Sergeant-Major,” Buffy said slowly as she took hold of the belt of bullets ready to feed them into the machine gun, “don't you think it strange that they took all the rifles but left the machine gun behind?”

“Probably too heavy for them to carry,” MacNutt reassured her.

By now the Burpas were only a hundred yards from the gate and coming on fast.

“Why don't you fire?” Buffy wanted to know.

“I'm waiting 'til I can see the whites of their eyes!”

“I can see the reds,” Buffy pointed out, “will that do?”

“Good enough!” MacNutt fired the machine gun into the front ranks of Burpas.

The Maxim gun stuttered, spitting lead at the advancing tribesman, men fell in the leading ranks but all too soon the machine gun stopped firing.

“What the...!” Sergeant-Major MacNutt opened the receiver to check the gun wasn't jammed, it was then that he noticed that the filler cap on the water jacket around the barrel had been removed and the water drained. “Damn-it!” MacNutt jumped to his feet and headed towards the mountain gun that stood further on down the track, “Quick! Load canister!”

“NO!” Buffy called pointing at the small cannon's muzzle, it was packed with earth and stone, if they tried to fire it now they be killed when the breach exploded.

Looking back towards the gate, Buffy saw Kali hack down the first few Burpas to get across the border. Blood and bits of Burpas flew everywhere.

“It's no use Sergeant-Major,” Buffy cried even as she drew the bayonet from the scabbard on her belt, “there's too many of them!”

“But we can't just run away,” MacNutt called as Kali cut down a few more Burpas.

“Yes we can!” Buffy told the man as they stared into each other's eyes for a moment.

“Alright,” MacNutt said over the screams of dying Burpas, Kali was really enjoying herself at the gate, “RETREAT!” cried MacNutt, “FALL BACK TO THE RESIDENCY!”

As Buffy and MacNutt began to make their way back down the track, Buffy looked around to see Kali still fighting at the gate.

“KALI!” Buffy cried, “Retreat, fall back or whatever!”

“NO!” Kali laughed, as she slaughtered three Burpas with a single swing of her sword, “I haven't had this much fun in years!”

“NO!” Buffy started back up the hill towards Kali, “There's too many, even for you!”

Grabbing hold of the back of Kali's sari, Buffy dragged the reluctant goddess back down the hill and away from the Burpas.

“No!” Please!” Kali struggled in Buffy's grasp, after a moment she stopped trying to fight Buffy and turned to run next to her and away from danger. “You really are strong,” Kali observed, “stronger than any slayer that I've heard of.”

“I've been doing the job for five years,” Buffy explained as she lengthened her stride.

“Ayeeee!” Kali cried in surprise, “A slayer is lucky to live but a year, you must be a very powerful slayer.”

“Yeah,” Buffy replied as she ran, “I suppose I am.”

0=0=0=0

**The Residency, Khalabar.**

“Call out the guard! Call out the guard!” Captain Keene cried urgently as he arrived at the gates to the residency.

Turning to look back the way he'd come he saw Lady Ruff-Diamond, Princess Jelhi and the Reverend Belcher stagger up the road towards the gate. He didn't expect to see MacNutt and his party, although they must have held off the Burpas for a time as they'd not been caught, deep down, Keene knew that MacNutt and his 'men' must surely be dead.

“Quickly inside!” Keene pushed the tired civilians through the gate as the guard formed up ready to repel any attack.

In the distance Keene could hear firing as it got closer, looking back along the deserted streets of Khalabar he blinked in disbelief as he saw three figures, two of which were in British uniforms, fleeing from a great crowd of very angry tribesmen.

“Prepare to give covering fire!” Keene ordered as the guard took up positions around the gateway, “Guard!” Keene started to shout out his order, “At one-hundred yards, natives to the front...rapid, independent...FIRE!”

A ripple of flame leapt from the muzzles of the guard's rifles as they fired and worked the bolts of their weapons as quickly as possible. After only a moment's hesitation, MacNutt, Buffy and Kali realised what was going on and sprinted the last few yards into the residency grounds. Hit by a withering fire the Burpas slowed to a halt as they took cover and shot back, leaving several bodies bleeding in the road way.

“Fall back!” Keene ordered.

One by one the men of the guard detail got up and made their way back into the residency compound where they took up position on the walls and continued firing at the tribesman. Soon only Keene was standing out in the open. Gazing towards the tribesmen with bullets throwing up puffs of sand at his feet or impacting the wall behind him, Keene turned his back contemptuously on the warriors and walked slowly back into the compound.

“Close the gates,” he ordered; the siege of Khalabar had begun.

0=0=0=0


	11. Chapter 11

11.

_An' when you're left dying on Afghanistan's plains,  
An' the women come down to cut up what remains.  
Jest roll on your rifle and blow out your brains!  
An' go to your gawd like a soldier._

'The Young British Soldier'; R Kipling.

**The Residency at Khalabar.**

It was now about an hour after Captain Keene and his party had returned to the Residency. While the garrison put the Residency into a state of defence under Sergeant-Major MacNutt's watchful eye, Captain Keene had just finished making his report to the Governor, Sir Sidney Ruff-Diamond.

“...and that's about it...” Captain Keene explained as he came to the end of his account, “Oh, yes almost forgot,” Keene took a deep breath, “Corporal Summers is actually a woman Sir.”

“Dash it!” Major Shorthouse muttered, “I always suspected there was something odd about Corporal Summers.”

“You did?” Sir Sidney turned his gaze from Keene to Major Shorthouse.

“Yes Sir,” Shorthouse nodded, “it was her legs, Sir, only a chapette has any business having legs like that.”

“Indeed,” Sir Sidney agreed, “I don't like it, I don't like it at all.”

“Its not that bad, Sir,” Major Shorthouse pointed out, “we can always send for a replacement Corporal from the Regimental Depot.”

“No! Not Corporal Summers!” Sir Sidney cried, “This...this Native raising that Captain Keene keeps going on about. An armed revolt like this could set the whole of India aflame. One false step could be disastrous.” Sir Sidney paused for a moment's thought, “No, gentlemen, this revolt will have to be suppressed with the utmost tact and diplomacy...we'll string up a dozen of the ringleaders as soon as we can!”

Just at that moment the door opened and Sergeant-Major MacNutt burst into the room and saluted.

“What is it Sergeant-Major,” Keene asked as he returned MacNutt's salute.

“The Khasi's here under a flag of truce, Sir, with Bungdit Din,” MacNutt reported crisply.

“All right Captain,” Sir Sidney said from the other side of the room,

“Right Sergeant-Major, show them in,” Captain Keene replied.

Saluting once more Sergeant-Major MacNutt left the room to bring in The Khasi and his henchman.

“Under a flag of truce, eh,” Sir Sidney paced across the room his hands behind his back, “I wonder what that means?”

“Well, Sir,” Major Shorthouse started to explain, “its a piece of white material...”

“I know what it is!” snapped Sir Sidney, but before he could say anything more, The Khasi and Bungdit Din arrived in the office.

“Greetings, Your Excellency,” The Khasi bowed low, “It is most kind of you to see us at such short notice.”

“You're always welcome, Your Highness,” Sir Sidney replied insincerely.

“You are most kind,” The Khasi replied with equal insincerity.

“And how can I be of service to Your Highness today?” Sir Sidney asked.

“As a mark of my deep respect,” The Khasi's nostrils flared as he spoke, “for You Excellency's person, I have come to offer you and your people safe conduct out of Khalabar.”

“A very magnanimous gesture,” smiled Sir Sidney, “and if I do not wish to leave?”

“Then, Your Excellency,” The Khasi sighed sadly, “I shall be forced, most reluctantly you understand, to _burn_ the Residency to the ground and kill everyone in it.”

“Is that all?” Sir Sidney laughed off The Khasi's threat.

“As a further mark of my respect,” The Khasi continued, the smile slipping from his face, “I shall then exhibit your distinguished, but neatly severed heads, from the walls of my palace.”

“A very generous gesture,” nodded Sir Sidney, “you must do as you see fit, now if you'll excuse me I have things that require my attention.”

“In that case there is nothing more to say,” The Khasi explained.

“Unless you'd like to stop for a spot of tiffin,” Sir Sidney offered.

“No thank-you,” The Khasi replied haughtily, “unlike you British we're not all tiffin-mad!”

With that The Khasi and Bungdit Din turned and swept from the room.

“I still don't trust that fellow,” Sir Sidney announced as he turned to look out the window at the residency's garden.

“Things look rather grim, Sir,” Captain Keene observed, “What are we going to do?”

“Do?” Sir Sidney asked, “We're British, we won't _do_ anything! No, gentlemen, as always we will carry on as if nothing was going to happen.”

“But surely Sir,” Captain Keene asked nervously, “we must make _some_ decisions.”

“Yes you're quite right Captain,” Sir Sidney agreed before turning to Major Shorthouse, “we'll have dinner at seven...I'd like Captain Keene, Princess Jelhi and Reverend Belcher to join us.”

“Yes Sir,” Major Shorthouse nodded.

“Black tie of course,” Sir Sidney added before pausing, “oh, and invite that Kali girl too,” Sir Sidney turned to look at Keene, “Do you think I should invite this Corporal, Miss Summers girl?”

“I don't think so sir,” Captain Keene replied slowly, “she sounds like one of those 'Votes for Women' types.”

“Ah yes,” Sir Sidney agreed, “we don't want to invite any of that sort to dinner.”

0=0=0=0

Outside in the Residency grounds, the Inverlockty Highlanders took up positions on the firing steps around the walls. Outside Burpa tribesmen wheeled artillery pieces into place or took up firing positions in the buildings surrounding the Residency.

“Over there!” Sergeant-Major MacNutt directed a detachment of Highlanders to an unguarded section of wall, “There's only one thing you need to worry about lads and that's me!” he informed the defenders, “And I'm right behind you!”

“Sergeant-Major,” Buffy called from the wall; she was only slightly annoyed that the Governor hadn't invited her for dinner, but if the truth was told she'd rather be outside fighting.

“What is it Corporal?” Sergeant-Major MacNutt ran over to join Buffy on the firing step, he noted that the rifle she was carrying was almost as tall as she was.

“There, Sergeant-Major,” Buffy pointed, “The Khasi!”

“My god you're right,” MacNutt exclaimed; The Khasi could clearly me seen watching as his men got ready for the attack.

“He's out in the open,” Buffy pointed out, “I could try to shoot him,” she lifted her rifle to her shoulder ready to fire.

“No,” MacNutt pushed down Buffy's rifle as he looked at his watch, “it's not even seven o'clock yet, the war hasn't started!”

0=0=0=0

**Outside The Walls.**

“Everything is ready for the attack, mighty Khasi,” Bungdit Din announced as he joined the Khasi.

“Seven o'clock,” smirked The Khasi, “this hour will go down in history.”

“Shall I give the order to attack?” Bungdit Din asked.

“Yes!” Suddenly the smirk left the Khasi's face as the sound of a string quartet floated over the residency's walls to his ears, “No! Wait. What is that sound? What trickery is this?”

“You! Up there,” Bungdit Din called to a Burpa on a nearby roof, “What is that noise? Can you see what is happening?”

“Oh indeed yes,” called back the tribesman, “they are sitting down to dinner!”

“Sitting Down to dinner!?” gasped The Khasi shocked to his very core, “Are they stark staring mad? Do they think I'm playing games?”

“It is a typical exhibition of the 'British Phlegm',” explained Bungdit Din with a resigned shrug.

“I spit on their British phlegm!” cried the Khasi angrily, “These people they infuriate me, they come out here with their starched uniforms and their stiff upper lips and their great big flags hanging out...they think they own the place!”

“They do,” Bungdit Din shrugged again as he interrupted the 'Khasi babble'.

“Well they won't for much longer,” The Khasi insisted, “Start the attack...Imshi!” Moving to get a better look at the Residency, The Khasi continued with his anti-British diatribe, “By the time I've finished with them, their stiff upper lips will be hanging down by their navels.”

“KILL THE PIGS!” Bungdit Din yelled as he drew his sword, “FIRE! FIRE!”

0=0=0=0

One of the first cannonballs blew a hole in the wall near were Buffy was standing. Jumping down from the firing step she ran to the hole and pulled a couple of injured Highlanders out of the way before starting to fire through the opening. Aiming at the gun crew, Buffy shot them down one after another until they all lay dead or wounded around the cannon. More Burpas rushed to take the place of the downed gunners, but Buffy shot them down as well, eventually no Burpa dared approach the gun as it was certain death to do so.

Reloading her rifle, Buffy looked for fresh targets, unfortunately the smoke from all the black powder used by everyone's weapons obscured even her vision. She may have knocked out the crew of one gun but the Burpas had at least two other cannon and at the short range they were using them even Burpa gunners could hit their target. Buffy ducked down as two more shells flew over the wall to hit the residency itself!

0=0=0=0

The sound of fierce gunfire entered the residency dining room where Sir Sidney was entertaining his guests; as they sat down to their meal an exploding shell blew open one of the French windows.

“Aren't you enjoying your soup, Mr Belcher?” Sir Sidney asked when he saw the nervous way in which the Reverend was looking around.

“D..delightful...delightful,” Belcher stammered in reply; another shell impacted the residency and dislodged some plaster dust from the ceiling, it floated down to the dinner table like snow. “Terrible noise, don't you think?”

Belcher was hoping that Sir Sidney would tell everyone to take cover, but he was to be disappointed.

“Yes its shocking isn't it?”Sir Sidney glanced over his shoulder at the small orchestra before leaning toward Belcher and speaking confidentially, “Its not a first class orchestra, but they are doing their best.”

“I...erm...mean the noise outside,” Belcher explained hopefully.

“Oh!” Sir Sidney exclaimed, “That's probably the drains again, Major Shorthouse?”

“Sir?” the Major looked up from his soup.

“You really must have those drains repaired,” Sir Sidney suggested.

“Yes Sir,” Shorthouse agreed before turning to Belcher, “How are you enjoying your stay in India, Mr Belcher?”

“Wonderful,” Belcher cowered down as the sound of rifle fire got louder still, “I can't wait to leave!”

“Yes it can have its ups and downs,” Major Shorthouse agreed before turning to Kali who was sitting next to him as she ate her soup demurely. “And what do you do, Miss Kali?”

“Well normally,” Kali patted her lips with a serviette, “I'm the goddess of death and sex but just at the moment I'm taking a break from all that. I will be going to England with Miss Summers to campaign for women's rights and Indian independence.”

“Oh, that's jolly interesting,” Major Shorthouse smiled politely, “do tell me more...”

0=0=0=0

Outside in the compound, Buffy didn't have time for soup or polite conversation as she ran from section to section stiffening the defence. Jumping up onto the firing step, she saw a gaggle of tribesmen trying to break into a house only fifty yards from the residency walls. Firing her rifle as quickly as her slayer hands could work the bolt she shot down tribesman after tribesman until her magazine ran dry.

“Damn it all!” Buffy muttered angrily as she fed new cartridges into her rifle's magazine.

Burpa bullets hit the wall or occasionally struck a Highlander while shells whistled overhead or knocked holes in the walls. The Highlanders were killing more Burpas than the Burpas were killing Highlanders, but there were an awful lot more Burpas than Highlanders and eventually the natives would get close enough to rush the walls. More shells exploded inside the compound and Buffy realised that if the Burpas managed to blow down the gates they'd be in deep trouble.

0=0=0=0

“I must say,” Lady Ruff-Diamond called over the sound of rifle and gun fire, “the wind does seem to be a little strong tonight.”

Pieces of plaster fell from the ceiling to land on the sleeves of Her Ladyship's dress, she flicked them away with her hand. Another volley of artillery fire blew in the windows behind the orchestra who played on as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Mr Belcher however ducked down under the table as a piece of shrapnel flew through the spot he'd just been occupying and blew a large, raged hole in the back of his chair. A stray shot hit and demolished the gong used to summon the servants.

“You rang, Sir?” an Indian servant appeared by Sir Sidney's right elbow.

“Yes Chindi,” Sir Sidney replied, “you may serve the wine and the main course.”

“Wine?” muttered Belcher as he climbed back onto his shell damaged seat, “They're all stark, raving mad!”

Sitting further down the table next to Major Shorthouse, Kali took a completely different view. She'd never really appreciated how cool under fire the British could be, or alternatively how insane they were. Smiling she congratulated herself on her decision to stop fighting the British and instead remove them from India using non-violent means. Outside the firing suddenly stopped.

“More wine Mr Belcher?” Sir Sidney offered.

“It's finished!” Belcher cried thinking the attack had been beaten off.

“No,” Sir Sidney looked at the wine bottle, “there's still half a bottle left.”

“No,” Belcher tried to explain, it seemed to him that he was trapped inside some mad-man's dream, “I mean all that banging and rumbling.”

“Funny,” Sir Sidney shrugged, “I didn't hear anything.”

“Oh you mean the noise outside?” Captain Keene asked from further down the table.

“YES!” Belcher cried thinking that he wasn't the only one not to have gone insane, “That's right!”

“Yes,” Keene agreed, “a spot of thunder, it's the season for it you know.”

“Stark raving bonkers the lot of them,” Belcher told himself as one of the servants brought in the main course.

0=0=0=0

“What are they doing now?” The Khasi called to the lookout up on the roof of the nearby house.

“They are still sitting down to dinner oh mighty Khasi,” replied the lookout.

“They're going on with the dinner?” The Khasi asked Bungdit Din in disbelief, “This is ridiculous; what must one do to arouse these idiots?”

“I do not know Highness,” Bungdit Din replied at a loss as to what to do or say.

“An artillery barrage leaves them unmoved,” The Khasi continued, “but put the tea into the cup before the milk and they fly into a rage!”

“It is like their Sir Francis Drake finishing his bowls,” replied Bungdit Din revealing a surprising knowledge of Elizabethan English history.

“Oh don't talk bowls to me!” cried the Khasi, “Kill them! Kill them all!”

“ATTACK! ATTACK!” cried Bungdit Din as he rushed off to direct operations, “Kill! Kill!”

0=0=0=0

The sound of firing broke out again as the Burpas recommenced their attack on the residency. Several shells hit the residency in rapid succession blowing in the few remaining windows and causing most of the ceiling in the dinning room to collapse. Plaster rained down on the diners with several pieces coming to rest in Lady Ruff-Diamond's hair.

“Oh dear,” Lady Ruff-Diamond laughed as she removed pieces of plaster from her hair and shoulders, “I seem to be a little plastered!”

Another volley of shells struck the residency scoring a direct hit on the orchestra knocking the men to the floor and seriously damaging their instruments. However, the men of the Inverlockty Highlanders Palm Court Orchestra were made of sterner stuff, they knew where their duty lay. As soon as the dust had settled a little they picked up their bent and battered instruments and started to play again.

Outside Buffy noticed a definite increase in the rate of fire from the Burpa's guns. Once more she tried to pick off the gunners but with all the smoke and dust she couldn't get a clear shot at them. Unfortunately the residency being a rather large target compared with individual Burpa gunners, they had no trouble hitting their targets. The Burpa guns fired rapidly for several more minutes, shells struck the walls near the gates until eventually two shells hit the gates themselves. One gate was completely destroyed sending wooden splinters scything through the air to cut down unwary Highlanders. The other gate was blown open to hang from its hinges an open invitation for the Burpas to rush the residency.

0=0=0=0


	12. Chapter 12

12.

_Jest send in your Chief an' surrender,  
it's worse if you fights or you runs:  
You can go where you please,   
you can skid up the trees,   
but you don't get away from the guns!_

'Screw Guns'; R Kipling.

**The Residency at Khalabar.**

“The gates have gone!” Bungdit Din cried in triumph, “ATTACK! KILL! KILL!”

At his order hundreds of Burpas rushed towards the broken down gates. Inside the residency compound Buffy looked up from reloading her rifle to see the Burpas surging towards her and the other defenders. Lifting her rifle to her shoulder she started to shoot down the blood-crazed fanatics. Unfortunately the Burpas only had to rush forward fifty or sixty yards before they gained the cover of the residency wall. Although the defenders rifle fire cut down scores of tribesman it wasn't enough to halt the momentum of the Burpa charge.

“FIX BAYONETS!” Yelled Sergeant-Major MacNutt as the first Burpas forced their way into the compound.

A frantic scrimmage developed at the gates with Buffy at its centre, sword wielding Burpas threw themselves at her and the few Highlanders who defended the gate. Steel crashed against steel as swords crossed with bayoneted rifles. In the midst of the struggle Buffy plied her deadly trade, bayoneting Burpas as they rushed at her or smashing in their skulls with the steel butt plate of her rifle. As the mound of dead and dying Burpas rapidly grew around her feet so too did those of fallen Highlanders as the Burpas slowly gained ground, there were just too many of them for even Buffy to stop. Slowly, reluctantly, Buffy and the surviving Highlanders gave ground.

“Well done, my beautiful warrior!” exalted the Khasi as he joined Bungdit Din at the blood splattered remains of the gateway.

“Come!” laughed Bungdit Din as he raised his great tulwar, “We will put them all to the sword!”

0=0=0=0

Inside the residency dining room dust swirled about not unlike a London fog. However, the dinner guests still sat at their places around the dinner table as if nothing strange was happening. Another volley of shells hit the residency roof causing the chandelier above the dining table to come loose and crash down onto the table itself crushing a floral display as it did so. It was at this point that Reverend Belcher's nerves finally gave out; with a cry of fear and alarm he disappeared under the table. The fall of the chandelier also caused Captain Keene to frown and attempt to brush some of the plaster dust from his uniform with his serviette. Rising to his feet he turned to look at the Governor.

“I was wondering if I might pop outside for a few minutes, Sir, just to see if there's anything's happening?” he asked calmly.

“But you haven't had your pudding yet, Captain,” observed Sir Sidney.

“Oh, and its strawberry mouse,” Lady Ruff-Diamond pointed out.

“Oh, well in that case...” smiling self-consciously Captain Keene retook his seat.

Sitting beside Major Shorthouse, Kali looked around in concern, it was all very well sitting around with a stiff upper lip, but outside there was a battle to be fought. Feeling all the death and destruction call to her, Kali shifted uncomfortably in her seat, she wanted to go out there and fight, but fight for who...or maybe that should be 'for whom'? On the one hand the tribesmen were her followers, but they'd been mislead by the Khasi. On the other hand the woman she was attracted to was out there fighting for her life while she was sitting there eating this rather good strawberry mouse. Coming to a decision, Kali made up her mind; she'd finish her strawberry mouse and _then_ go out and fight.

0=0=0=0

Outside in the compound, Sergeant-Major MacNutt had formed a firing line covering the parade square in front of the residency. For a time the Highlanders, encouraged by the sound of one of the regimental pipers playing his instrument, held the Burpas at bay. The Burpas took up position on the walls and were able to shoot down on the exposed Highlanders. Once again the Highlanders started to give ground as their loses grew. As soon as the Burpas sensed the Highlanders give way a little they rushed forward once more eager to join in hand-to-hand combat.

A great melee swirled about in front of the residency, despite Buffy and MacNutt's best efforts the defenders were starting to lose cohesion. If that happened the Burpas would gain the upper hand and all would be lost. There was nothing else for it, Sergeant-Major MacNutt admitted as he shot down yet another Burpa with his pistol. He was going to have to disturb the Governor and the officers while they were still having dinner!

“Corporal Summers!” MacNutt called out over the clash of weapons and the screams of dying men.

“Sergeant-Major!?” in an instant Buffy was at MacNutt's side.

“You hold them here, I'll go and get help,” MacNutt was just turning away from the battle when Buffy called him back.

“Hey!” Buffy cried as she grabbed hold of MacNutt's tunic and held him in place, “This 'going for help', its not another way of saying, 'I'm running away' is it? Coz if it is I'm going to be seriously ticked off!”

“No, no,” MacNutt insisted, “I'm going to get the officers.”

“Oh,” Buffy smiled guiltily, “that's okay then.” Letting go of the Sergeant-Major's tunic, Buffy turned to face the Burpas once again and skewered a tribesman with her bayonet, “Gotcha!”

0=0=0=0

Entering the dining room through a shell hole in the wall, Sergeant-Major MacNutt walked over to the Governor, came to attention and saluted.

“Excuse me for butting in Sir,” MacNutt said as he stood rigidly to attention.

“That's all very well, Sergeant-Major,” Sir Sidney looked up from his strawberry mouse, “but we have got a door, you know.”

“I'm sorry, Your Excellency, but this was rather urgent,” MacNutt explained.

“Oh alright then,” Sir Sidney sighed tiredly, “what is it?”

“I'm afraid the Burpas have broken into the compound, Sir,” MacNutt reported crisply.

“That's a dashed bad show,” Captain Keene commented.

“Perhaps we should go out and have a look,” Sir Sidney suggested, as he rose to his feet, “if the Ladies will excuse us?”

“Oh, of course dear,” Lady Ruff-Diamond called from the other end of the table, “if it's important.”

“Major Shorthouse,” Sir Sidney looked across the table towards the Major, “my revolver if you please.”

“Of course, Sir,” the Major got to his feet and collected both his own and the governor's revolvers from an ornamental box on the shelf over the fire place.

“Have you got yours dear,” Sir Sidney called to his wife, “just in case?”

“Yes dear,” Lady Ruff-Diamond pulled a small, silver plated revolver from her cleavage and smiled at her husband.

“Try to save the last bullet for Mr Belcher,” Sir Sidney suggested, “after all he is our guest. Chindi, if you please.”

The Indian servant opened the door and Sir Sidney led Major Shorthouse and Captain Keene out to where the battle raged.

“Don't worry!” cried Belcher from under the table, “We'll save you some cheese and biscuits.”

Lady Ruff-Diamond sat at the foot of the table, revolver in hand and smiled reassuringly at her female guests. While Princess Jelhi appeared to be copying the British calm, Kali felt she had to do something, standing up she turned to Lady Ruff-Diamond.

“Lady Ruff-Diamond,” Kali began, “thank-you for a most excellent dinner, but I simply must go and find my one true love.”

“Of course dear,” Lady Ruff-Diamond replied, “'love will out', as they say. You run along and find your sweetheart, but be careful of all those nasty Burpas.”

“I will,” Kali started to move towards a smashed in window, seeing a sword hanging from the wall she reached up and brought it down, testing its balance, Kali smiled, “It is not I who needs to be fearful of the Burpas, it is the Burpas who should fear me! AYEEEEE!”

With a shout Kali rushed out through the broken window and into the fray.

“Strange girl,” Lady Ruff-Diamond commented to Princess Jelhi before asking, “So, you and Captain Keene are planning to get married, have you given any thought to what sort of service you'll be having?”

0=0=0=0

Outside in the compound, although her bayonet dripped with Burpa blood and the pile of corpses grew around her feet, Buffy knew that the garrison couldn't hold out for much longer. Things had to be serious, the Governor and the Officers had joined in the fight, but even with their help there were just too many Burpas. Hearing screams and cries of alarm, Buffy looked over to her right to see great fans of blood spray into the air as severed limbs span and twisted as they flew through the air.

“BUFFY!” cried Kali as she came to a halt next to where Buffy stood, “My love!”

Looking behind Kali, Buffy saw how the goddess had left a trail of dead and dying tribesmen in her wake.

“Its good to see you too,” Buffy admitted.

“All is lost,” Kali cried as she severed a tribesman's arms from his body with two economical swings of her sword, “let us away!”

“No I can't,” Buffy thrust her bayonet into a Burpa's stomach, “In, disembowel, disengage!” she chanted as the Burpa groaned and fell to the ground, “I have to stay here.”

“But why?” Kali sliced one Burpa in two from his head down before turning and cutting another in twain at the waist.

“You wouldn't understand,” Buffy called driving the butt of her rifle into the face of a Burpa and shattering his skull.

“Try me,” several more Burpas fell to Kali's blade in various bloody and gristly ways.

“I'm the Slayer I have my duty,” Buffy tried to explain, “I have to do this.”

“Then if you stay,” Kali struck down a lone Burpa who suddenly found he had no arms or legs, “I stay, we fight together!”

Standing back to back the two woman fought on as more and more Burpas rushed into the compound.

0=0=0=0

Sword held high and uttering a blood curdling warcry a Burpa warrior rushed up to Sir Sidney as he stood on the residency steps.

“You wish to see me?” Sir Sidney asked calmly as he produced his revolver from behind his back and shot the native in the head before he could bring his sword into play.

A moment later Captain Keene ran up to Sir Sidney and stood for a moment as he reloaded his pistol. He'd been down into the very heart of the melee encouraging his men and shooting down the odd Burpa as they rushed at him.

“Bit of a sticky wicket, I'm afraid Sir,” Captain Keene reported to Sir Sidney, “looks like we're done for this time; there's just too many of them.”

“Not yet we're not,” Sir Sidney had noticed that the Burpas had drawn back as they readied themselves for the final rush; just for a moment the British forces were unengaged. “Captain, have the men form a single rank in front of the residency.”

“Sir?” Captain Keene couldn't see how that would help; shouldn't they withdraw into the residency itself and sell their lives dearly?

“Line 'em up!” Sir Sidney repeated, “Facing the enemy.”

“Well if you insist Sir,” Captain Keene shrugged before going to organise the men.

The Highlanders formed up in front of the residency as the Burpas gathered themselves for the final attack that would free Khalabar from the British yoke.

“STOP!” Sir Sidney yelled, the sound of his voice brought the Burpas to a confused halt, “COMPANY!” Sir Sidney had been a Sergeant-Major in his younger days and his voice carried easily across the battle field. “KILTS...FRONT!”

Bending the surviving Highlanders grasped the hems of their kilts.

“GO ON!” Urged the Khasi as he came to stand in the front ranks of the Burpa horde, “There are no Devils in Skirts to frighten you now!”

“HANDS...RAISE!” the sound of Sir Sidney's voice drifted across the compound to the Burpas as the Highlanders stood up lifting the hems of their kilts as they did so.

“AAAAAH!” screamed the Burpas as they saw what the Highlander's kilts had been hiding.

Screaming in terror the Burpas turned about and fled in full retreat casting away their weapons as they did so and leaving only the Khasi and Bungdit Din to face the enemy.

“Come back! Come back,” the Khasi called after the rapidly departing tribesmen, “There's nothing to be afraid of!”

Turning back to face the British line, the Khasi realised for the first time what he was really facing. His eyes roamed along the line of raised kilts until they came to rest on one short soldier. The Khasi's eyes grew wide in a mixture of fear and wonder; a woman!? If British women could fight like devils, what chance had he got of driving the British from India?

“Oh, I don't know...I think its time to leave,” The Khasi told Bungdit Din as they turned to follow the tribesmen out the gate.

0=0=0=0

“Buffy my love,” Kali leant on her sword as she stood next to Buffy, “the battle is won, your duty here is completed, let us away from this place and start our new life together as we discussed.”

“Well,” Buffy looked at Kali and smiled, “I suppose I could get used to more girl-on-girl action,” she sighed, “its not as if I've had much luck with guys over the years.”

“Not the most fulsome agreement a goddess wants to hear,” Kali smiled, “but it'll do for now...and I promise once you've gone 'goddess' nothing is ever as good.”

“Someone else told me that once,” Buffy said sadly, “a long, long time ago.”

“They did?” Kali shrugged, “But this time it'll be true, goddess of sex as well as death here.”

“Yeah, I never did get the entire sex and death thing,” Buffy said as she smoothed down her kilt.

“Its a circle of life thing,” Kali explained with a shrug.

“Oh,” Buffy had thought of something, “if I go with you won't I be deserting?”

“I wouldn't worry about it, my beautiful Buffy,” Kali started to lead Buffy away from where the surviving Highlanders were clearing up the Burpa bodies and tending to their own wounded. “They won't want the world to know that a woman...no...two women fought here. They'll probably put you down as 'Killed in Action' and give you a posthumous medal or something.”

“I suppose you're right,” Buffy agreed her voice suddenly becoming lighter, “lets go. I've got a place in town where I keep some saris. I'll go and change then we can get on with our lives...you got any money?”

“Money?” Kali sniffed haughtily, “A goddess does not need money.”

“Sister,” Buffy sighed, “you've got a lot to learn about being human.”

“Whatever,” Kali replied, “you go and change I'll meet you there in a little while, I have some business to finish.”

0=0=0=0

**The Khasi's Palace.**

“Take these!” The Khasi rushed into his treasury and pointed at several boxes of gold coins; his servants rushed to obey their overlord.

Things had not gone as he'd hoped, but if he could get himself and the greater part of his not inconsiderable fortune into the hills and up to Bungdit Din's stronghold he'd be safe. Who knows in a few years he might be able to make his peace with the British and come back to his palace here in Khalabar. After all wasn't his own daughter about to marry that Captain Keene? That had to count for something. Stepping out of the treasury, the Khasi made his way to his throne room, there were a few papers there that he would need. Rushing across the polished marble floor, The Khasi was almost at his throne before he saw The Goddess standing there in all her bloodthirsty glory.

“AAGH!” The Khasi cried out in alarm as he skidded to a halt just yards from his throne.

“What did I tell you?” Demanded the goddess as she moved menacingly towards the Khasi.

“I...I...” stammered The Khasi finding the words wouldn't come; the goddess was in her full goddessly aspect, multiple arms, weapons, fangs, eyes and truly magnificent breasts.

“I told you not to raise the tribes,” Kali took another step towards The Khasi as he trembled in front of her, “but you disobeyed me and now the tribes have been decimated for no gain while you prepare to scurry off to the safety of the hills.”

“I'm...I'm...sorry Goddess,” The Khasi sank to his knees in front of the vengeful goddess.

“SORRY!?” Kali's shout made the entire palace tremble, “You're _sooo_ past sorry!”

Raising all four of her swords, Kali brought them down on the unfortunate Khasi and cut him into neat, thin slices. When the bloody execution was completed, Kali changed back into her human form as she stood over what remained of the Khasi of Khalabar. Time to move on, she told herself; not only had she to introduce Buffy to the delights of...what had she called it? Girl-on-girl action, she also had to start working for women's rights and Indian Independence.

0=0=0=0

**A Hospital room in London, 1966.**

“Buffy my love!” Kali burst into Buffy's private hospital room, “We won!”

“We did?” Buffy asked weakly from where she lay against her pillows, she was old and she was dying.

“Yes!” Kali strode across the room to sit on the edge of Buffy's bed; she looked old too, but she was still a goddess and she looked old for appearances sake only. “Yes the National Unity Party has won the election and Britain has her first female Prime Minister. The Queen will soon be calling Mrs Hacker to the palace to invite her to form a new government!”

“Good,” Buffy smiled tiredly, “Who would have thought that getting a woman Prime Minister would take so long...” she sighed, “...pity I won't be around to see a woman as President.”

“Yes,” Kali nodded sadly as she took Buffy's hand in her own, “back when we started out we thought Indian Independence would take all the time, but...”

The goddess' voice faded to nothing as she looked down at the love of her life. Kali knew her lover was dying, after all she'd been the goddess of death and sex (she'd always enjoyed the 'sex' part the most, although all the fighting had been fun too), she could feel Buffy slipping away from her even now. As she looked down at Buffy, Kali saw not the grey haired old lady but the blonde haired girl who had been so full of life when they'd first started to live together. She remembered all the times they'd made love, all the things they'd done and achieved together; now all that would come to an end because Buffy was mortal. What made it worse was that there was nothing Kali could do to stop the natural order of things from happening. Not even the goddess of death could stop nature from taking its course.

“You know there's nothing I can do?” Kali asked quietly as her eyes started to blur with tears.

“There's nothing I'd want you to do,” Buffy pointed out, “I've done more than I ever dreamed possible, I've lived longer than I ever imaged I could. I even found someone to love...” Buffy smiled, “...it's been fun...I wouldn't change anything we've done for another five hundred years of life...” Buffy saw the tears as they ran down her goddess' face, “...no tears Kali, it'll make your eyes all red...”

With a sigh, Buffy closed her own eyes and went to sleep for the last time. Standing by her bed, Kali was aware of the doctors and nurses as they rushed into the room. They could do nothing, her lover was dead and there was nothing even she, a goddess, could do...

“You're a goddess,” Kali told herself, “but there must be something...”

Watching as the doctors gave up trying to revive Buffy, Kali thought hard; she couldn't stop death but she might be able to turn it a side it for a while. Maybe...the idea came to Kali in a flash. It would probably take all her remaining power; as the years had past the number of her followers had dwindled. With every one less worshipper, Kali's powers had faded, but maybe she could make one last effort to save her lover. Perhaps she could send Buffy back to her own reality, send her back to where she was supposed to be before she fell through the Hellgod's portal.

The doctors turned at the sound of Kali's body hitting the floor, they rushed to help the old woman but found there was nothing they could do for her. No doubt stricken by the death of her life long partner the old Indian woman's heart must have given out and she'd died there next to her friend's bed.

Standing over her own body, Kali watched as the doctors tried to 'save' her. Shrugging Kali moved away from all the medical action. As she moved she became more 'real'. It felt strange to be back in her own body with its four arms, three eyes and extra teeth, but at least her magnificent breasts hadn't changed. Stopping in the doorway she glanced back over her shoulder and looked with regret at her lover's body. It had been so much fun living with Buffy even if it had only been for sixty or seventy years. But at least Buffy was now where she was supposed to be, back in her own reality with her friends and family. A thought struck Kali as she walked out of the room and down a corridor sending nurses and doctors running and shrieking at the sight of her. 

Now Buffy was home, Kali supposed that she'd have to go home too, but what would be waiting there for her? Buffy had her friends and family waiting for her, Kali only had a bunch of lame-brain gods waiting for her. No doubt they'd try and throw her a surprise party, Kali hated surprise parties.

0=0=0=0

Waking up in the dark, Buffy knew with a certainty that couldn’t be denied that she’d died and she’d gone somewhere where she’d been loved. That somehow she was back in her own world and she was lying in her coffin. With a strength born of the slayer added to her panic at being buried ‘alive’, Buffy fought her way out of her coffin and towards the surface.

The End.


End file.
